


The Ties That Bind

by Nerdanel



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: AU, M/M, There's also smut, a lot of sad maybe, a reversal of sorts, but also a sad, there's fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6480325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdanel/pseuds/Nerdanel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Frankenstein, the first Elder of the Union, ends up fighting the Noblesse and takes him prisoner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title being that famous Bruce Springsteen song. I was listening to it and was like, ah, isn't that the leitmotif in this fic? Mmm, cliche, but works! Anyway~ this fic's idea, worldbuilding, and pretty much everything comes from the really lovely [Laryna](http://laryna6.tumblr.com/). I was wallowing in sad and they let me adopt one of their amazing plotbunnies and well, here it is. 
> 
> Hope you like the finished version! (I know it can use more editing, but. *lazy/tired*)

They said you were responsible for the thing you had caught, and Frankenstein was not one to shirk his duties, even if he was answerable to no one. He could just as well ignore the whole thing as his job was already done. He had neutralised the biggest threat to his goals, so why was he still so intrigued – _enchanted_ – by what he had in his grasp.

 

Perhaps it was because of how alluring Nobles usually were, and this one was _especially_ so. Even though he was nothing more than a living weapon – or so Maduke had told him. He wondered, not for the first time, that if this was the most powerful Noble, how did he get defeated by Frankenstein so easily?

 

Cadis Etrama di Raizel sat in front of him, his posture every bit dignified despite the fact that he had been chained to the chair. He did not squirm under Frankenstein’s gaze, nor did he look particularly perturbed by the situation. Was he making a fool out of him?

 

“So,” Frankenstein said, standing a bit apart from the Noblesse’s cell. “I hope you like your lodgings.” _You are going to be here for a very long time, after all, best get used to it_.

 

Raizel lifted his face and regarded Frankenstein solemnly. “They are serviceable. Though,” he paused and glanced behind him at the barred window with an uncertain look on his face. He then shook his head and his expression became neutral again. “I do not like the chains.”

 

“Well, tough luck there, because I’m keeping them on.” Frankenstein could not help sneering, just a little bit.

 

“They are not my style,” the Noble said.

 

“They are not – what?” Frankenstein raised his eyebrow and glared at Raizel, but it did not seem like he was pulling Frankenstein’s leg at all. The Noble did not seem facetious at all. Looking at his face, it did not feel like Raizel could _do_ facetious. How odd. Was this mind control? Frankenstein was able to shrug off the mind control of clan leaders already, so that did not seem likely. So, then what was _this_?

 

Raizel looked at him expectantly and Frankenstein stared back, baffled.

 

“You are not bothered that I have captured you, but rather the fact that the chains aren’t your style? Do you honestly think me so foolish that I’d take off them and risk letting you escape?”

 

“I give you my word that I will not attempt to escape.”

 

“As if I can trust a Noble to keep his word,” Frankenstein snapped and turned around, feeling a little disgusted and a little disturbed that he had let a Noble get to him. He was _better_ than this. He did not glance back at the Noble as he left the dungeons, abandoning him to total darkness and isolation.

 

* * *

 

He was back the next day, despite not really wanting to because he could not get those Raizel’s eyes out of his head. Once he had glimpsed at them, he had felt as if they were sucking him into their immeasurable depths. It bothered him for _so_ many reasons.

 

The Noble was right where he had left him, though the chains binding him were missing. A jolt of panic gripped Frankenstein by the throat and he ran, stopping only at the bars and gaped at the Noblesse. How had he gotten those off? He had made sure to reinforce them to accommodate the strongest of all Nobles, but really? To make them disappear without so much as leaving a trace behind?

 

“I told you,” Raizel said in a quiet voice, answering Frankenstein’s unvoiced question, “that they were not my style.”

 

Frankenstein grabbed the metal bars and pursed his lips. The Noble _was_ playing around with him and Frankenstein did not like being patronised. He stalked back upstairs, convinced that the Noble wouldn’t leave just yet, because he could have done so any time he’d wanted to. He would come to regret messing with Frankenstein though, that was for sure.

 

He forged the strongest possible chain possible, large iron manacles and reinforced them with the dark power that coursed through his veins. He made sure to keep them as large and unwieldy as possible, just to return the favour. He brought them back and opened the cell, not even caring that Raizel might escape if he entered without any backup security. He had subdued the Noble _once_ , he could do it once again if worst came to pass.

 

Raizel merely glanced at him, then at the items in his hand and a frown marred those beautifully exquisite features. He looked away and tried to appear unruffled, but Frankenstein could see that he did not like it. Yet, he did not resist it when Frankenstein closed those heavy iron bands around his delicate, slender wrists. If Frankenstein held them in his hands for a little too long, it was _only_ because he wanted to admire his handiwork and not because of how pretty Raizel’s hands were.

 

What an idea!

 

True to his word, Raizel neither made any attempts to escape, nor did he fight Frankenstein’s endeavours to chain him up, and that was why Frankenstein left that place, feeling a lot more upset than he had previously felt at the missing chains.

 

Frankenstein went back to his lab and crafted something else that night, staying up until the morning because he wanted to perfect it. It wasn’t because his petty revenge had bothered the Noble, but as long as he was Frankenstein’s prisoner, he had to make sure that he was properly secured. And that’s why he had to use gold, because that was the only metal that could properly conduct his powers without falling apart like iron tended to do. He knew it wouldn’t age or rust with time either – both Frankenstein and Raizel were going to live for many, many years – and it was extremely malleable and yet strong.

 

In the end he had made three delicate and dainty golden chains that sparkled in the firelight. They looked lovely, but Frankenstein knew their true nature. They would be deadly to anyone except him and perhaps the Noble. He wondered if he should have used silver, as it was rumoured to be good against the werewolves, but he went with gold because it was a little superior to silver. Besides, he wanted to see these spiry chains wrapped around that white skin.

 

When he found himself back in the dungeon, he was relieved to find that Raizel hadn’t moved. He hadn’t taken off the chains either, though he did not know why. Was it truly because they were able to hold him back, or as preposterous as it sounded, was it because he did not want to aggravate Frankenstein further?

 

Either way, he was going to replace them, so it hardly mattered.

 

“Hello,” he greeted in a cheery voice, as false as it was.

 

Raizel did not deign it with a reply. He looked resolutely to the side; eyes vacant and mind wandering somewhere out of these enclosed stone walls. Something about that made Frankenstein a little uneasy. Only when Frankenstein undid his chains did he seem to stir, as if coming back to reality and acknowledged Frankenstein’s presence. Frankenstein, for his part, worked soundlessly to remove those heavy chains, relieved when he saw they hadn’t left a visible mark on Raizel’s skin. Why was that so important? He did not know.

 

He produced the gold chains, placing them on his palms and showed it to Raizel as if it was an offering and waited. Raizel examined them in silence before nodding. Pleased despite himself, he put them one around Raizel’s neck, closing the clasp behind Raizel’s graceful neck. He had to lift the dark hair that covered his neck, and he was surprised to note how soft and cool it was to touch. His fingers also brushed against Raizel’s skin which was smooth and pleasantly warm and Frankenstein’s fingertips tingled from the power he could feel suppressed inside the Noble’s body.

 

He put the other two around Raizel’s wrists and stood back, admiring the way those chains settled over Raizel’s skin. Whether he was affected by them or not, it was hard to say, but Frankenstein was sufficiently satisfied as he could feel Raizel’s power dull a little under the restraints. Yes, he was on the right path even if he did not know what he was doing just yet.

 

Perhaps, he considered, more detailed experiments were required.

 

* * *

 

Because it was imperative that he start experimenting on the Noblesse, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to take him out of the cell from a little bit of time. The bars were reinforced with his powers, anti-noble magics and all, so he was certain of Raizel’s compliance in there. However, what would happen once he brought him to the lab? No other way to find out than to go through with it. But _before_ that, he’d have to get Raizel proper clothes and take away his current ones.

 

He did wonder why they never looked creased or dirty no matter how long he wore it. Technically, a Noble did not need change of clothes because they didn’t sweat or such, but the fabric could still tear and get dirty, and it certainly would once Frankenstein was done with him.

 

Other than that, he was also aware that the Noblesse enjoyed a high position within the political structure of Lukedonia. The less powerful Nobles did not know of him, but one look at the clan leaders who stood at the apex of an entire family, and Frankenstein could tell just how important Raizel was. He knew he had dishonoured Raizel – why should he care about a Noble’s station? – and he’d have to deal with Lukedonia sooner or later when they noticed that he had their weapon in his hands.

 

He was in front of Raizel’s cell before he’d realised he’d walked there. Shrugging, he entered it all the same. Might as well go through with it and move on to the next item on his agenda. He was a busy man, after all.

 

“Hello!” He greeted and walked towards the little enclosed area that housed Raizel right now.

 

Raizel looked up at his approach and pulled his attention away from whatever had occupied it until now. His posture hadn’t changed since the last time Frankenstein left him and he wondered if Raizel had simply sat in the exact same place for three whole days.

 

“Come with me,” Frankenstein told him, beckoning him with his hand. “Wouldn’t you like to leave this place for a while?”

 

Raizel stood up, expression unchanged and went up to him. Frankenstein took his hands and linked the two chains together so that the hands were now tied together closely. It was just an extra precaution, but Frankenstein had always been a careful man. Not like Raizel resisted him in any manner, however.

 

He took Raizel by the elbow and took him outside, keeping an eye on him on the side as he took him to the room where he stored all the linens and clothes. He had people who made clothes for him, but he liked to design them in his spare time. It wasn’t quite a hobby – just a way to pass the time when he wasn’t going out there, trying to plot against godlike beings and protect the entire world.

 

Raizel was a godlike being. No, it would be more accurate to say that he was a _god_. One that Frankenstein had snatched from the sky and brought down to a human’s level in chains, and that thought would have given anyone a power rush. Frankenstein wasn’t immune to it. He wanted to feel even more powerful, wanted to strip the dignified front that Raizel projected and look at what hid in those fathomless eyes.

 

He bade Raizel to enter before him and closed the door behind them. It was a large room, one that had many windows to ensure proper lighting to distinguish colours and designs, and there were rows of wooden stands from which different style of clothing hung. On one side, the walls were lined up with wooden shelves that contained many bundles of fabric, lined up by the differing shades. The majority of them were white and black, but there were some rare colours like indigo and purple, and some unusual ones like green and scarlet that he’d synthesised and dyed himself.

 

He didn’t keep the mordant and dyes in this room, but the clothes sometimes had the lingering smell of all the substances he’d used on them and would smell. So all those windows were also left open and it was no wonder that Raizel was attracted to them right away. Frankenstein had to stop himself from grabbing and restraining Raizel from wandering to a window. If he did jump outside, Frankenstein knew he could catch up in no time.

 

Raizel, however, only opted to stare out of the window liked a starved man. It struck Frankenstein as odd, but he held his peace and went to stand next to him, trying to find out what fascinated the usually laconic Noblesse so? There was nothing discernible to him and he soon gave up, abandoning Raizel to his window-gazing to pull out several bundles and line them up, and stared at them in contemplation.

 

He already wore black, so that was out. He would have liked to see Raizel in red, but really, this wasn’t for him to try and dress up a Noble for personal amusement. It was to bring him down to a human’s level, given his position as Frankenstein’s prisoner and test subject. To remove his expensive, elegant clothing and replace it with something common, something cheap.

 

“Hey,” he called out, picking a plain and unadorned shift from a nearby stand and took it to Raizel. “Put this on.”

 

Raizel stared at it. He made no move to accept it or reject it. When the silence started to become uncomfortable, Frankenstein shook the shift in his hand. “Strip, or I will tear your clothes off your body.”

 

In answer, Raizel lifted his wrists and showed the delicate chain that linked his hands together, making him unable to undress himself. Realising, Frankenstein hid his embarrassment under a stern expression as he unlinked the two chains and watched as Raizel undressed himself. He stopped him at the underwear and handed him the shift. He was surprised to note that – not that he had been looking too closely – that a Noble was still wearing underwear. But then not wearing one would be rather inelegant.

 

Raizel’s new clothes hung on his frame loosely and his legs were bare from below the knee. And those were _some_ legs. Frankenstein tore his gaze away reluctantly and looked up, finding himself looking straight at Raizel’s dismayed expression.

 

“What?” He asked, just a little defensively.

 

“Pants…” Raizel said. That was the first thing he had said that entire day, but Frankenstein wasn’t happy about it.

 

“You don’t get _any_ ,” he said viciously and turned away, partly because he did not care – and partly because he didn’t want to look at the way Raizel’s face crumpled. He even kept at it for several long moments, but every second he could Raizel’s eyes on him, distressed and upset at not being able to wear pants.

 

He relented. “Fine,” he told Raizel. “Choose a pair from the ones here.” He gestured at the numerous stands and folded his arms, annoyed with himself. Ever since Raizel had walked into his life, attacking him after he’d seen him with all those Central Knights, bound by duty and honour – what was honourable about stealing the will and mind of a human being and manipulating it? – he had experienced a good deal of irritation. Frankenstein had used his powers, the Dark Spear for the first time in his life, and he had taken the Noblesse down.

 

That should have been the end of it.

 

And yet.

 

“What’s taking you so long?” He asked irritably. It had been close to five-six minutes since Raizel started looking at the pants – they were pretty much identical – and still hadn’t made his choice. “Not good enough for you?”

 

Raizel shook his head and glanced at Frankenstein with an uncertain look on his face. “They are all different – it’s hard to choose.”

 

So the Noble could notice things like these? Frankenstein was surprised despite himself. “Why is hard to choose one?” If he were in Raizel’s situation, he’d have chosen the best one since he could tell which one it was.

 

“It seems like a lot of labour and time has gone into making these,” Raizel told him, reaching out tentatively to brush against the soft, black fabric of one of the pants. “I wouldn’t want to disregard someone’s hard work by making a quick choice.”

 

Frankenstein clicked his mouth shut. Again, he’d severely misjudged Raizel and it chafed at him. The Noble hadn’t been thinking of how human clothing was somehow beneath him. No, he had been worried about some random human’s efforts that went into making a piece of clothing for Frankenstein’s collection. He worried about the _strangest_ things, but not important things like how Frankenstein was being awful to him.

 

The thought made him wince. It was hard to be deliberately cruel when the other party did not notice, or did not care about the mistreatment. When they were as inoffensive as Raizel.

 

“Take them all,” he said. “You can go through all of them, one by one.”

 

Frankenstein told himself that he was only imagining the painful squeeze in his chest when he’d looked at the way Raizel’s face lit up at the prospect. Just his imagination, he was sure, best to brush it aside before it took root in his mind and grew into something he could no longer deal with.

 

* * *

 

Bringing Raizel out on a walk dressed like this was a huge mistake. Sure everyone here was a trusted person; Frankenstein would never run an establishment where it was possible to have traitors. The Union was one thing, since it was a collection of people and not people working under Frankenstein, really. This was _his_ house, and everyone here was loyal to him.

 

So why did they have to stare at Raizel’s legs? He had been unable to choose between the pants Frankenstein had offered him, so Frankenstein let him take all of them. He still didn’t put them on, and by that time Frankenstein was so hungry, he simply pulled Raizel towards the dining hall. That was clearly his first problem.

 

The second was handing Raizel a piece of bread. Frankenstein had forced him to sit on the floor, because Raizel was something like a pet rather than a prisoner now. Frankenstein had clothed him, so now he had to feed him, too.

 

Except, Raizel did not know what to do with the bread and he had sat there for the better part of an hour staring at it in befuddlement.

 

Frankenstein’s third and final mistake was to dip his fingers in honey, because _why not_ , and offering it to Raizel as a test to see if he’d take the bait. Raizel looked at him, uncomprehendingly, and Frankenstein pressed Raizel’s soft lips with his sticky fingers. Raizel’s eyes widened as his mouth opened and his tongue brushed briefly against the tip of Frankenstein’s fingers.

 

And then Raizel _licked_ his lips. Licked at Frankenstein’s fingers. Frankenstein froze, unable to tear his hand or eyes away as Raizel cleaned his fingers clean like a small kitten-like licks. Raizel had looked at him to see if he minded it too much, but all of Frankenstein’s higher thought processes had shut off the moment Raizel’s tongue came into picture. Taking his – dumbfounded – silence as either acquiescence or encouragement, Raizel continued until all the honey was gone.

 

Frankenstein pulled his fingers away then, slightly breathless and more than a little confused by his body’s reaction to Raizel’s actions. Or by Raizel’s actions, really. What kind of Noble did such things? Had he read Frankenstein’s mind and taken the pet part literally?

 

Was that it?

 

Frankenstein carefully covered his face with his other hand – he wasn’t going to bring the hand Raizel had licked anywhere near his face just yet, or ever – and hid the faint blush he knew he was sporting.

 

Raizel was _dangerous_ in a way he’d never anticipated.

 

* * *

 

Later that day when Frankenstein walked him back to his cell, Raizel’s steps slowed down a little as soon as he realised where they were heading. Frankenstein blamed it on the fact that he’d spent too long in the company of this strange Noble that he was able to notice it at all. There was nothing discernible on his face, but his shoulders were slightly hunched and his head was lowered a fraction.

 

He would be lonely in there, wouldn’t he? The only window there was barred, and it faced south, so no sun or moonlight ever poured in. The walls were bare and cold and there was only one chair in it. Raizel did not take his seat until Frankenstein had turned the key and pocketed it.

 

When Frankenstein was safely back in his room, he put his hand on his heart and took a deep breath. The heaviness in his chest did not abate no matter how hard he tried to move past it.

 

* * *

 

Next morning found him sighing at Raizel’s inability to make a decision regarding his clothes. What did Nobles do about the clothes they wore on daily basis? Did they just magic them out of thin air? Now that he thought about it, that probably was the case.

 

Still, he had blocked Raizel’s powers, so he shouldn’t be able to make clothes as he wished. But Frankenstein wished he _could_ so they could be free of this dilemma. Raizel had put on a few of the pants Frankenstein had given him under Frankenstein’s scrutiny, but none seemed to suit him. In the end, they settled for going without any until Frankenstein either made a pair _himself_ , or find Raizel a shirt.

 

The latter was slightly less inconvenient, so Frankenstein took Raizel to his room and loaned him a shirt of his own. It was white and plain, but when Raizel put it on, it looked far more elegant than it had ever looked on Frankenstein. The pants also matched them perfectly and the entire ensemble gave Raizel a rather innocent look. He was dressed in a commoner’s clothes – still a little loose on his frame, the sleeves were _too_ long. Frankenstein helped roll them up and pinned it up around his elbows.

 

It made Raizel look younger than before. If he wasn’t so striking, he’d have passed for a completely harmless human. Almost like a teenager. Innocent and wide-eyed, as if he did not have his hands dyed deep with the blood of his own people. As if he wasn’t a killer. As if –

 

Frankenstein had to stop himself from thinking too long about it. Raizel was now looking out of the window of Frankenstein’s room and Frankenstein couldn’t imagine leaving him down below any more than he could pretend that he was interested in the Noblesse in more ways than one. He was an important sample, an excellent bargaining tool, an example to others to show just what would happen if they thought of crossing Frankenstein.

 

But Frankenstein could admit that Raizel was also much, much more than _that_.

 

* * *

 

He brought Raizel out of the cell permanently afterwards. Why keep him chained in there, where no one could see him, when he could put him on display for all to see and strike terror into the hearts of Nobles (if they were stupid enough to cross his path now), werewolves and humans alike. He figured it was good method to dissuade any from defecting and forming their own group. If Frankenstein could capture the strongest Noble, what _couldn’t_ he do?

 

He made another of those chains, stronger than before, and tied one end around Raizel’s ankle and the other to the leg of his chair in the main gathering room. When rest of the members assembled, he had introduced the Noblesse to them and watched with barely suppressed glee as shock and horror flit by their faces. The most interesting reaction was drawn from, unsurprisingly, the clan leaders who had betrayed Lukedonia in secret. Not only were they completely exposed, but also because they had moved so _long_ in shadows due to the might of the Noblesse, the very same now chained to Frankenstein’s chair.

 

It was hilarious, frankly.

 

Even the unflappable Rocitis Kravei looked particularly gobsmacked. Urokai looked horrified and _angry_ , while Zarga looked ill. Frankenstein could not help gloating. He knew he’d have to face their wrath sooner or later, because while they had given up their loyalty towards Lukedonian ideals, they were still Nobles and did not care much for humans. They only cooperated with Frankenstein’s Union because of the common goal against the Noblesse.

 

Frankenstein had the Noblesse right under his control, and that meant that they could not move against him without the apprehension that he’d smack them down like flies. It felt good: the knowledge that the beings that always looked down upon Frankenstein as if he was nothing more than a maggot beneath their notice, was stronger than them.

 

“Frankenstein,” said Rocitis Kravei after a long and uncomfortable silence. It made sense that he was the first one to speak since Urokai was still beside himself with rage. “This is very…shocking,” he seemed to struggle with his words, unable to find the right one to convey whatever it was that he felt. “That you have Sir Raizel here, with us.”

 

“As my prisoner,” Frankenstein pointed out, gesturing towards the golden bonds secured around his limbs.

 

“As your prisoner,” Rocitis said faintly. “But are you sure this is a good idea?”

 

It was the Noblesse’s duty to punish the traitorous clan leaders and nobles with forced eternal sleep, was it not? If so, Rocitis’ fears were genuine. However, unless the Noblesse could get _free_ , he was safe. So, in essence, Rocitis and the other clan leaders’ lives hung in balance on Frankenstein’s ability to keep the Noblesse by his side. The irony was delicious. They couldn’t attack or kill Frankenstein lest they wished the Noblesse to walk free – free to punish them as he saw fit.

 

Raizel, for his part, had looked straight at the three of them in utter silence. It made Frankenstein wonder exactly what went through that pretty head. Was he angry to see that they had betrayed Lukedonia? Was he shocked? He did not look like it, so maybe Frankenstein was wrong about that. Or was he upset? Sad?  Raizel’s expression was almost as vacant as the time he had been restrained by Frankenstein with those huge, ugly chains.

 

“Wasn’t he the biggest threat to our plans, Rocitis Kravei,” Frankenstein said in as poisonous a tone he could muster. “For decades you people have been building up the image of the Noblesse in our heads, as if he’s a monster –” A discreet glance at Raizel, but nothing could be gleaned from him again. “But he wasn’t that hard to overcome. Are you sure this really is Cadis Etrama di Raizel?”

 

“Don’t take his name so lightly,” Urokai hissed, clenching his fists. “You have no right to humiliate –”

 

“Urokai Agvain,” Frankenstein said sweetly. “I doubt you have the right to take his name either, considering you are one of the people who betrayed him.” Urokai blanched and stepped back as if Frankenstein’s words were a physical blow. “I’m a mere human; I don’t fall under the Noblesse’s jurisdiction.”

 

Ah. Ah, _that_ made sense. Perhaps the Noblesse hadn’t used all his powers against Frankenstein because Frankenstein was a human. How infuriating. Not that Frankenstein wouldn’t take advantage of the situation, now that he had the Noblesse under his control, of course.

 

Urokai turned his face towards Raizel, and flinched when he noticed his expression. His gaze fell and he stood there helplessly for a few more moments before walking out in dejection. That was more like it. The other Nobles also followed him, one by one, but not before they gave a restrained bow to the Noblesse. He did not acknowledge either of them and the mere fact brought enough satisfaction to Frankenstein.

 

If the Noblesse had held back from hurting Frankenstein, it was _his_ loss. Not Frankenstein’s.

 

* * *

 

He attached the chain he had used around the Noblesse’s ankle to his neck and tugged on it like a leash. The Noblesse followed him silently – always so quiet, this one – and kept his gaze level to Frankenstein. He would not look away even though he was being treated like a pet. Neither did he complain or protest. Frankenstein could not figure out what the deal was, and asking meant he was conceding ground to Raizel, so that would not do either.

 

He brought Raizel to his personal lab and locked the door. He motioned Raizel to take a seat, which he did, and then he put on his protective clothing. Once that was done, he turned around and stood in front of Raizel, staring at him contemplatively. It wasn’t the first time he was going to practice experiments on a Noble, so why did he feel so… _hesitant_ , perhaps that was the word?

 

“Strip,” he commanded, folding his arms and quashing the sudden reluctance.

 

It was not a surprise by this point when Raizel complied with his requests and took off his shirt and even his pants, and even the underwear when Frankenstein did not ask him to stop. He set his clothes aside and looked at Frankenstein, completely unabashed at his own nakedness. And despite himself, Frankenstein found himself staring – just a little – at Raizel’s form because this was the first time he’d seen him completely naked. Last time it had only been the _legs_.

 

He had to hand it to the Nobles: they _knew_ what kind of shape would be most pleasant to human eyes. Raizel was slender, a little too slender, in Frankenstein’s opinion, but that only gave him an aura of fragility that made people want to shield him from harm. This was hilarious – or cruel depending upon who you asked – considering he was the executioner of the Nobles.

 

His job consisted of judging Nobles and any other beings powerful enough to bring harm to the world as a whole and lay them to waste – or that was what he had been told. But looking at him right now, Frankenstein had a hard time wrapping his mind around the concept.

 

Still, he mustn’t keep staring. He had things to do – things he had put off for too long. He made Raizel sit down again and grabbed his wrist, poising a knife over it. Raizel looked at him and he looked back, unable to continue as soon as their eyes met. Typically, this was where the other Nobles he had captured started to protest, started to fight for real – if they already weren’t – and their language would get crude and desperate when it became apparent that Frankenstein wasn’t going to relent.

 

Raizel, however, sat there perfectly still, absolutely no tension in the arm that Frankenstein had in his grip, and not even a trace of worry in his cinnabar eyes. Frankenstein took a breath and snapped his attention back to the wrist he had to cut. But his hand wouldn’t move no matter how hard he tried.

 

“Are you using mind control on me?” He had to wonder because this was ridiculous. He already knew it wasn’t the case, but then what else could it be?

 

Raizel tilted his head, blinked and said, “Why would I need to use that on you?”

 

Frankenstein realised that it was something other than mind control. It was just easier to blame it on the Nobles. But no, this was something far more troublesome. Something like his long-lost conscience coming back to life. He gripped his knife a little tighter and pressed it to Raizel’s skin, nicking it easily and blood gushed forth. He withdrew the knife, alarmed, as he had not applied any _pressure_ at all and _yet_. The knife was sharp, but not enough to create a wound that deep.

 

He fumbled for the container to collect the blood, pushing his doubts out of his mind for the time being. Once the entire container was full, Frankenstein grabbed Raizel’s arm, trying to staunch the heavy bleeding. To his relief, the bloodflow got sluggish and then stopped within a few moments. The cut, too, healed in front of his eyes and Frankenstein let go, just a little unsettled by the entire chain of events. He put the blood away, pouring some of it in various tubes to conduct further experiments by mixing it with different chemicals. Usually, he did not care if his test subjects kept bleeding even after he was done extracting the requisite amount of blood. Usually, he didn’t care _at all_.

 

It shouldn’t be any different than slaughtering a pig, except Raizel wasn’t something he could consume. This was an arrogant Noble –

 

Who had never shown any signs of arrogance or superiority.

 

He had never even tried to harm Frankenstein after the first bout other than trying to defend himself. He had _actually_ given up on the fight (or so Frankenstein had deduced) when it had seemed like Frankenstein would be in mortal danger if they continued fighting. Someone who wouldn’t even break the flimsy bonds that Frankenstein had used on him. Yes, his powers were blocked, but what was stopping him from tearing the chain apart with his hands? Even if his wrists were linked together, he could still break the chain around his neck and free some of his powers.

 

Frankenstein gritted his teeth and faced the Noble again, reaching out to start the physical examination. For this purpose he would use the powers he had taken from the Central Knights, exploring the physical as well as the soul of the Noble, making sure he did not find the soul weapon the clan leaders possessed. They had reassured Frankenstein that the Noblesse did not have one, but he knew better than to believe their words. He ran his fingers over Raizel’s face, brushing thick lashes, elegant lines of his eyebrows, those high cheekbones and soft – softer than they looked – lips.

 

He traced the angle of his jaw, the jut of his chin and the graceful arch of his neck. That hair was just as soft as he remembered. The skin just as warm, though it no longer made his fingertips tingle from the steady thrum of power. No, now if he felt an electric current jolt down his spine, it was entirely _his_ fault for noticing Raizel’s loveliness, which – for the record – was now accentuated by a delicate blush high in his cheeks.

 

His hands descended to Raizel’s chest, as he tried not to stare too long at anything – especially not at his nipples, really – and his hand rested over Raizel’s heart and he paused, confused. _That_ couldn’t be right, could it? He probed deeper with the borrowed powers and his brow creased. He halted his examination and drew a chair, sitting down next to Raizel and restarted it, wondering if he’d gotten something wrong. But no.

 

Pulling his hands away, he regarded Raizel with interest. He had never examined a Noble this powerful, so maybe his readings were wrong. But that was only a maybe. He did examine Zarga Siriana once, with his permission and he’d never noticed anything like this, so…

 

“You’re the Noblesse, aren’t you?” He asked. The Noblesse was the most powerful of all Nobles, his position on par with the Lord, so whatever Frankenstein was sensing had to be wrong.

 

“Yes,” said Raizel.

 

A living weapon. He was synonymous with death for anyone that got too powerful and didn’t submit to Lukedonia’s ridiculous standards. He was a tool for the Lord to keep his people in check. He was –

 

He was _mortally wounded_.

 

But by what?

 

And why was he not recovering?

 

The Nobles did not have a speedy regeneration capability like the werewolves, but they were extremely sturdy and bounced back fairly quickly. It had been a couple of weeks since Raizel fell into his hands. Even if the last fight had wounded him extremely so – Frankenstein couldn’t remember as he had been almost swallowed by the Dark Spear – he ought to have recuperated by now. When he had come to, he’d found Raizel lying prone on the battleground and nobody else in sight. So he must have defeated Raizel while in his possessed form – or so he had thought, until a while ago.

 

Still, Frankenstein would not show concern for a Noble under any circumstances, so he resumed scrutinising Raizel’s body with his hands and mind. Unfortunately for him, it did not yield much data – he could always cut Raizel open and look at his internal organs, but he did not wish to do that just yet – and other than that there were two things he had noticed. One that Raizel was gorgeous and the other that he was slowly dying.

 

Neither of them gave him any pleasure, however.

 

* * *

 

Raizel took residence in his room for multiple reasons, or so Frankenstein assured himself. After he had realised that Raizel was too sick to escape, too weak to fight back, the imminent threat of his escape became a little less dire. But he could still escape _physically_ if he was shut inside a room without any supervision. And Frankenstein couldn’t bear to leave him down in that cell where there was no window.

 

The only compromise, then, was to keep Raizel next to him in his room. Frankenstein never slept more than a few hours, making sure to wake before the nightmares hit, and even then he was a light sleeper. Not that he had to worry all that much since all Raizel did was to stare out of that damn window anyway.

 

Sometimes when Frankenstein couldn’t sleep, Raizel would leave his perch next to the window and sit on the floor next to Frankenstein’s bed. And then Frankenstein would put his fingers into Raizel’s silky hair, playing with it until he was drowsy. He’d talk to Raizel sometimes, and while he didn’t always get a response from him, he found it strangely peaceful and companionable. It’d be such a shame if someone ever took this beautiful creature from him. It was a very distinct possibility, however. Enough to rouse him from his stupor one such evening where he stopped petting Raizel and looked at him, thoughtful.

 

“Won’t your people come to look for you sometime?” He asked, resuming his earlier activities when Raizel’s head bumped gently against his palming, silently demanding him to continue.

 

“Perhaps,” he answered after some consideration. “The Lord had sent me to investigate into the case of disappearances amongst the members of Central Knights force.”

 

“So, when you don’t return, they’ll send a search after you, too?”

 

“In a while, yes.” Raizel rested his cheek against Frankenstein’s wrist and sighed softly.

 

“I won’t hand you over to them,” Frankenstein warned him and curled his hand in Raizel’s hair, holding him in place. He already knew he couldn’t let _anyone_ have Raizel. Not Lukedonia, not the Lukedonian traitors, nor the werewolves or the humans that admired Raizel from afar.

 

“You wish for me to stay with you?” Raizel asked. His voice was a lot less sure of himself for once. Usually Raizel carried himself with the same dignity and self-assurance as befit his station, but there were moments sometimes when he had his guard down, leaning into Frankenstein’s touch, resting against Frankenstein’s leg while he worked, or just enjoying the food – mostly accompanied with honey – Frankenstein offered him. In those moments, Raizel appeared… _almost_ human. Vulnerable and shy.

 

It wasn’t good for Frankenstein’s heart.

 

“Yes,” said Frankenstein, sincere enough to shock even himself.

 

Raizel went very, very still under Frankenstein’s touch for a few moments. Then he relaxed and closed his eyes, simply allowing himself the sensation of Frankenstein’s ministrations, and Frankenstein didn’t mind indulging him for as long as he liked.

 

* * *

 

The transition was so natural and smooth that Frankenstein did not notice it until Maduke had cleared his throat rather pointedly during an important meeting. He raised an eyebrow in question at the prissy werewolf – it wasn’t Frankenstein’s fault that he couldn’t take care of Muzaka – and Maduke flicked his eyes towards Raizel. Frankenstein followed his line of sight and found his own hand resting on Raizel’s dark head, petting him as if he were a dog. Or no, he was more like an aloof cat than a dog.

 

Frankenstein must have really gotten used to Raizel’s presence if he didn’t even notice such throwaway gesture in public. He kept his hand where it was though, because withdrawing it now would mean he had done it unconsciously and make him look weak. When he had the Noblesse at his feet, it wouldn’t do to fall for his charms.

 

“In fact,” Maduke was saying, “Why do you bring him to our meetings at all? With all due respect, Frankenstein.” By which Maduke meant: _fuck you too_.

 

“Would you prefer that I leave him unsupervised and he kills us all?” Frankenstein asked, letting his lips curve into a sinister smile that would always silence even the strongest amongst them.

 

“Even so, he is Muzaka’s friend,” Maduke said, covering up his annoyance as much as he could. “He might not sit still when we try to kill his daughter.”

 

That did earn him Raizel’s attention and Frankenstein wondered if Maduke’s apprehensions weren’t true after all. “Which is why it’s more advisable if you not take that particular route, perhaps? If Muzaka finds out and goes into a frenzy, you won’t be able to subdue him with your entire tribe, right?”

 

Maduke tapped his fingers against the table and looked grim, confirming Frankenstein’s suspicions. “Our initial plan was to let the Noblesse stop him, let them duke it out and mutually self-destruct. But you foiled our plans and have stranded us without a resort.”

 

“That plan has too many variables. We don’t know if the Noblesse would have been a winner, and if he were to succeed, what would have stopped him from going after the killers of Muzaka’s daughter afterwards? And if Muzaka were to succeed, he would come after the humans. Remember the humans?” Frankenstein said, angrily. “The ones I’m supposed to protect and represent? There is no point in ruling over this world if it’s a desolate wasteland.”

 

“The Noblesse would have won certainly,” Maduke said with equal heat behind his words. “And then he would have –” He stopped abruptly and shut his mouth.

 

Then he would have _what_? Frankenstein wanted to ask, but he refrained because it would be giving Maduke too much leeway. He did not trust Maduke at all. And if it were within his power, he’d have killed him long ago. But Frankenstein needed the cooperation and manpower that werewolves provided. He was planning to discard them later in the future, but that was then. Right now, he couldn’t just get rid of them. Not while Muzaka lived.

 

“We will stick to our original plan,” Maduke informed him, standing up. “She’s the only weak point he has. We’ll take her hostage and exchange her life for Muzaka’s. That way we won’t sustain any losses either.”

 

“Ah, yes,” Frankenstein said. “But for that you need _my_ help. Because if your family saw you doing something that underhanded, they won’t respect you as a proper leader. What a werewolf Lord needs is strength, not cunning.” Or else Muzaka would never have become their Lord in the first place.

 

“Well?” Maduke looked at him.

 

“His daughter is half human,” Frankenstein said coldly. “Also, she’s just a child.”

 

“First Elder Doctor Frankenstein,” Maduke enunciated, matching Frankenstein’s tone and leaned forward. “This is not the time to show scruples. We have everything we want in our grasp, almost _everything_. When we get rid of Muzaka, we have no one left to stop us at all.”

 

“He’s _your_ problem. I did not see you helping me with the Noblesse or the human leaders I took care of.”

 

Maduke’s hand tightened on his staff, almost bending it in half. He was furious, but with the Noblesse _right_ there, he could not dare to make a move. Frankenstein smiled and dismissed him.

 

“Muzaka has a child,” Raizel spoke from below, catching Frankenstein’s attention immediately.

 

He withdrew the hand that was still resting on Raizel’s head and bade him to stand. “Yes, that’s what they have told me.”

 

Raizel’s eyes softened, making him look much, much younger.

 

“They will kill her, I fear,” Frankenstein sighed, tearing his eyes away from the soft tilt to Raizel’s lips – almost a smile. “And there’s nothing I can do about it. She’s half human, but she’s also half werewolf and as such, I can only deny them my cooperation.”

 

Raizel did not say anything, but there was a strange expression on his face.

 

“I cannot let you go and stop them either. It will undermine my authority. You are my trump card,” Frankenstein told him because what harm could it do? “Keeping you here gives me advantage over the rest of them, so—”

 

“So you can shield the humans from their cruelty,” the Noblesse finished the sentence for him.

 

Frankenstein could not deny that. Besides, he was staggering under the epiphany he’d just had. The final puzzle piece had finally fallen into place for him. The Noblesse had _known_ all along. Cadis Etrama di Raizel, the most powerful of all Nobles, had played a prisoner to Frankenstein – a human – so as to enable him to save innocent lives. Had sat at his feet, had allowed Frankenstein to do whatever he wanted to him. Stayed with him because Frankenstein _wanted_ him to.

 

Words failed him.

 

* * *

 

That night when Frankenstein went to his room, Raizel followed him just as he did every day since he’d come out of his cell. Today, however, Frankenstein felt irritated by Raizel’s complaisance. It wasn’t like he was actually trapped here – he was just keeping his word and should Frankenstein let him go, he probably _would_ leave. Frankenstein realised that he did not want that. At all.

 

He sat down on his bed and looked over to the couch where Raizel had situated himself, ready for another night of staring out of the window. Frankenstein had no idea what was _so_ fascinating that Raizel could spend the entire night simply _looking_ , but he did not ask. Something about the peaceful look on Raizel’s face dissuaded him from prying because he felt like it would ruin the moment.

 

Frankenstein lay down on the bed and stared at the canopy overhead, mind far too overactive to actually sleep. He turned and tossed for almost half an hour before his restlessness attracted Raizel’s attention. He turned around to look at Frankenstein, crimson eyes glowing softly in the dark and Frankenstein’s breath hitched.

 

He sat up and motioned to Raizel to come join him. Raizel did not take more than a moment to comply with his request and sat down next to Frankenstein. He reached out and stroked that dark hair, pushing his fingers through the sleek strands and pressing his fingertips into Raizel’s scalp gently. Raizel’s eyes fluttered close at that and he leaned forward into Frankenstein’s touch. Always so much like a cat.

 

“I’m sorry,” he was the first one to speak. “For not letting you to go to your friend.”

 

“You are prioritising the lives of many over one,” Raizel said. The implied _I do not blame you_ was left unspoken, but Frankenstein knew it was there.

 

The worst thing was that Raizel was right. Frankenstein was protecting the entire humanity, and by making an enemy out of Maduke, he wouldn’t be doing them any favours. Wouldn’t be able to stop him from participating in local wars and racking up the kills.

 

“I’m still sorry,” he said, pulling Raizel closer because he clearly enjoyed being touched by Frankenstein. He kept stroking Raizel’s hair, and used his other hand to touch his face and neck and shoulders, taking his usual nightly routine a step further. It was a gentler, sweeter version of his clinical examination of Nobles, and he quite liked it. It helped, of course, that Raizel was so responsive.

 

His eyelashes trembled as Frankenstein ran his hand down Raizel’s back, and he leaned closer and closer until he was practically in Frankenstein’s lap. It made Frankenstein smile and wrap him in his arms, petting and caressing because it had been a _long_ time since he had touched anyone at all in this manner.

 

And this wasn’t just _anyone_. This was the Noblesse, the most dangerous and powerful of all Nobles, arching into Frankenstein’s body like a touch-starved cat. It made his hand stop and Raizel let out a soft, distressed sound and Frankenstein resumed right away, feeling slightly guilty.

 

His reactions were so honest, so sweet that Frankenstein had no choice but to conclude that perhaps no one had ever touched Cadis Etrama di Raizel in this way. He pressed his face into Raizel’s hair and whispered, “Did no one ever hold you before?”

 

At first he did not receive a reply, though he felt Raizel stiffen in his arms. But then Raizel gradually relaxed again and placed his hands awkwardly over Frankenstein’s shoulders, not knowing where else to put them or what to do with them, most likely. He shook his head and tightened his grip, as if he was afraid that this would be a dealbreaker.

 

“I’m the Noblesse,” he said. As if that explained everything.

 

Actually, it did, because it hit too close to home. Frankenstein had experimented upon himself obtain powers to fight the mutants, and experienced ostracization as a result. People were usually scared of something or someone that had the power to squash them like a bug, and both Frankenstein and Raizel appeared that way to the people they were honour-bound to protect.

 

No one had bothered to give Raizel even one warm hug? No wonder the Nobles were all kinds of _fucked_ up, if they did not ever receive a scrap of affection from others. They weren’t human, of course, and their values were completely different, but they emulated humans closely enough. So, a hug or two wouldn’t go amiss, in Frankenstein’s opinion.

 

Just how many normal things did the Nobles not experience? Or was Raizel a special case? He still remembered the way Raizel had taken to actual human food when he’d refused to drink blood. It was inelegant, according to him, and also unnecessary. He hadn’t forgotten the first time he’d given Raizel _honey_.

 

It did not help to think about that when he had a lapful of warm, squirming Raizel being affectionate and sweet with him. He pulled Raizel back a little and pressed his lips to Raizel’s before he could make another unhappy sound. Raizel went very, very still for a few long, unbearable seconds, before his touch was returned. The gesture was timid, but the reciprocity wasn’t _just_ in Frankenstein’s mind. He took a deep, shuddering breath and deepened the kiss, being fairly sure that Raizel was a complete virgin and this was probably his first kiss too.

 

That was why Frankenstein wanted to be careful with him. Gentle and loving. Even if Raizel was his captive – whether or not just in name – he was under Frankenstein’s care. He was sick, too, and that just flared up Frankenstein’s protective instincts too. A lonely, sad, sick existence with no comfort ever provided to him, no happy memories – only sad, devastating ones where he was forced to use his powers to sentence people to death? More and more blood on his hands until he had to isolate himself just to draw a breath in peace without accusing eyes following him. How could _anyone_ lead such a life without going insane? Frankenstein did not know.

 

How could Raizel still retain all that kindness inside himself when he’d not been given any?

 

So he kissed Raizel, to distract them both from the sadness he’d always glimpsed in Raizel’s eyes, but had never been able to truly understand. Still couldn’t, because Raizel was older, much older since Noble lifespans stretched over thousands of years.

 

He weaved his fingers into Raizel’s hair, tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss, swallowing Raizel’s breath and tasting his mouth. He could feel Raizel shiver in his arms, clutch at his shoulders and try to respond to the best of his capacity. It was _endearing_ how hard he was trying to keep up with Frankenstein. He slowed down, allowing Raizel room to breathe and gather himself before licking at his mouth. He managed to coax Raizel’s tongue into his own mouth, and let him explore and map the insides at his leisure.

 

He pulled Raizel on top of himself without breaking the kiss and laid them both down so that they could continue as long as they liked. Wasn’t this better than staring outside the window, all alone with an expression full of longing? He ran his fingers down Raizel’s side and grabbed his hip, pulling him closer. He was slightly turned on already and having Raizel’s weight in his lap and over his body was helping things along quite well. Raizel broke the kiss to look at him, eyes hooded and a completely flushed face.

 

It was almost too beautiful to look at.

 

Frankenstein brushed Raizel’s hair away from his face and pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “Did you like that?”

 

Raizel’s eyes followed Frankenstein’s lips and he swallowed, nodding.

 

Frankenstein smiled, thumbing Raizel’s cheeks and holding him close. “Do you want to go further?”

 

Raizel nodded again and returned Frankenstein’s smile with a shy one of his own. “The Lord wanted me to experience these things too.”

 

Wait, _what_ now?

 

“The Lord of the Nobles?” Frankenstein asked. He had heard much about the Lord and everyone described him as an eccentric despot, so perhaps he _could_ be invested in the Noblesse’s lack of sexual experience, but really?

 

“Yes, he often asks me to go visit him and wants me to go out in the human world to experience new things.” There’s definite fondness in Raizel’s tone. Maybe a little bit of exasperation too, but it’s still inextricably mixed with affection.

 

Frankenstein wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “How often does he make you visit him?”

 

“Every ten or twenty years,” Raizel said in a way that suggested it vexed him sometimes.

 

But wait, ten-twenty years? That was a really, really _long_ time. Then again, he was thinking of it in human terms, maybe it wasn’t that long for immortal beings like Raizel. He rubbed Raizel’s back again and traced the contours of his spine. He did not want to stop what they were doing, of course, even if he was rather curious.

 

“What did you do in the meantime?” He asked, pressing his lips to Raizel’s jaw and going up to his ear to mouth at his earlobe.

 

“I watched.”

 

“Watched what?”

 

“The world outside my window.”

 

Frankenstein let go of Raizel’s earlobe and pulled back to look at him. “Just that?”

 

“Yes,” Raizel replied, cupping Frankenstein’s face and imitating him by running his fingers through Frankenstein’s long blond hair. It was quite intense a sensation, for such a small thing. “The world outside is full of special things and I like watching them.”

 

Frankenstein sighed, letting his head hit the pillow and enjoyed the sensation of Raizel’s brushing his hair with his fingers. He also did not know what to say to Raizel had revealed to him right away. “Do you – is that why you look outside the window here?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Frankenstein silently resolved to get more windows for Raizel’s use within the castle where they lived. He’d never wanted to provide everything for _one_ person alone, but Raizel was special. It did not hurt to acknowledge that Raizel was very, very special to Frankenstein. No, the realisation lifted a lot of weight off his shoulders.

 

“Do you like this?” He asked, though that wasn’t the real question on his mind. What he’d wanted to know was whether Raizel _liked_ Frankenstein? Liked him the way Frankenstein did. Or was it just because he’d never gotten the opportunity to feel loved and had latched onto the first person who was willing to provide? It bothered him only marginally though, because Raizel was innocent and he couldn’t blame him for _anything_.

 

“Yes,” Raizel said, though he seemed a little bit more embarrassed to admit this.

 

Frankenstein kissed him again. This was good enough for now. He reached down to place his hand between Raizel’s legs, cupping him and stroking him experimentally. Raizel gasped into the kiss, reacting almost immediately to the sudden stimulation. His body was far too responsive, but it made sense since he was a virgin. Frankenstein let out a huff of laughter and licked at his face.

 

“I want to make love to you,” he told Raizel. “I want to let you experience just how good it can feel.”

 

And apparently, that was good enough to make Raizel spill in his hand, jerking a few times in his embrace. He came without making a sound, though Frankenstein could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest and his laboured breathing against Frankenstein’s neck. If Raizel so wished, he could just bite and enslave Frankenstein. But Raizel just moved up instead to kiss Frankenstein again, and he kept at it until Frankenstein’s mind was empty of everything except what he was feeling.

 

“Reading my mind?” He asked in a breathy voice when he had gathered his scattered wits. He wasn’t angry. No, instead he felt happy because Raizel was trying to be _considerate_ in the only way he knew how.

 

“You were distressed,” Raizel told him, brow wrinkled in unhappiness.

 

Frankenstein kissed him in answer and wrapped his arms firmly around Raizel’s frame, rolling them over so that Raizel was below him. He grabbed a bottle of lubricant – he was _always_ prepared for any kind of emergency, even this – from the small cabinet next to his bed and climbed back into bed, pinning Raizel securely. He unscrewed the lid and took out the mildly fragrant gel from the bottle – his own preparation – and looked askance at Raizel’s clothes.

 

“You need to strip,” he said, manoeuvring Raizel’s legs so he could settle between them.

 

He was about to help Raizel with taking off his pants that Raizel’s clothes dissolved into thin air, leaving him completely naked and shocking Frankenstein into inaction. “I did not know you could do _that_.” Why hadn’t he done that before in the lab whenever Frankenstein asked him to strip?

 

“If I used my powers, it would have bothered you.”

 

Frankenstein had to concede that point. He shrugged – couldn’t be bothered about the fact that his chains were pretty much useless after all right now, not when they were pressed so close together – and lifted Raizel’s legs over his shoulders. He noticed that even splayed open like this, his body _completely_ exposed to Frankenstein’s eyes, Raizel still managed to look elegant. He pressed a fond kiss on Raizel’s inner thigh and pushed his finger inside him, opening him up. “Let me know if you feel uncomfortable or want to stop.”

 

Frankenstein had to remind himself that Raizel wasn’t human, because his body was completely relaxed – the way a virgin’s body could never be. Raizel did not feel the discomfort or fear that a human might feel, though he could experience pleasure all the same. He found the spot inside Raizel that would set every single nerve inside his body alive, and sure enough, Raizel bucked and panted, scrunching his eyes shut and whimpering from pleasure. He was hard again, of course, since this wasn’t a human body.

 

But a body Frankenstein would embrace anyway, because he loved it so. He loved Raizel _so_. He wanted to encapsulate – entrap Raizel in his arms and never let go. Not let him walk away to save a stupid werewolf. Not let him risk getting hurt when he was already sick, already dying. Using more powers might just make it worse, after all. Muzaka was extremely powerful and that was no secret. Could the Noblesse go toe to toe with him and come out unscathed?

 

He took his fingers out once he deemed it good enough and pulled Raizel closer until their bodies were flush together. “Is this okay?” He asked, because in the end, what mattered was that Raizel was okay with whatever was happening. There was nothing more important to Frankenstein than that.

 

“Yes,” Raizel replied, eyes bright and lips trembling just a little.

 

He entered Raizel, as slow as he could but still ended up all the way into Raizel’s welcoming, unresisting body almost right away. Raizel grabbed at his shoulders again and made a low sound deep in his throat. Raizel was tight, hot and perfect, and Frankenstein was completely buried inside him. The most powerful Noble, the one who had respect of those who had betrayed even their Lord, the kindest, sweetest creature in existence was under him, reduced to making incoherent, pleased noises because of how Frankenstein had made him _feel_.

 

Frankenstein tugged on the chain around Raizel’s neck, pulling him gently into another kiss as he started to move, to make love just as he’d promised. He kept his pace unhurried and focused entirely on letting Raizel _feel_ him move inside. Brush against the gland that would make him see stars. Caress his body with his hands and tongue, wherever he could reach.

 

He wondered if he should just take these painful chains off Raizel’s body. Replace them with fake ones because he had no more desire to cause Raizel any pain. Not now, not ever. The mere idea made him sick with remorse. Raizel was extremely precious and should never have to experience any pain. Frankenstein wanted to make it so.

 

He wanted to make him experience all the good things in the world. Wanted to make him feel loved and cherished. That’s why he wanted to make him come first, and it wasn’t difficult because Frankenstein had always been an attentive lover, though never more so than now. He took Raizel’s erection in his hand again and stroked him to completion. When Raizel’s body clenched around him, wracked with the waves of orgasms, he came as well with Raizel’s name on his lips.

 

Later, when they had cleaned up and he had Raizel in his arms, clothed now – he could reclothe himself just as easily – he pressed his face into Raizel’s neck and let drowsiness claim him. It had been a _long_ time since he’d felt so relaxed after having sex. Technically, it had been a long time since he even had any, so.

 

“Stay,” he told Raizel. It wasn’t a command, but a request. A heartfelt plea. “Please stay,” he repeated and shut his eyes. He couldn’t remember if Raizel ever gave him a reply, though he had a feeling that Raizel had apologised to him instead in a really, _really_ sad voice. Or maybe that was an awful dream Frankenstein had that day, just another addition to the absolute hell that was going to be his life from thereon.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Raizel had disappeared leaving behind the chains at Frankenstein’s bedside, unbroken.

 

* * *

 

Frankenstein found him in the ruins of an old castle. The devastation was so large scale that he couldn’t even begin to fathom the scope of the powers that must have clashed here. He found the bodies of various werewolves, including Maduke and Muzaka, and Raizel who was the only left standing.

 

Raizel looked at him as he approached cautiously. Blood dripped from his eyes, ears and mouth. It flowed freely from numerous wounds on his body. He could _barely_ stand. Frankenstein’s mouth went dry as he walked closer, catching hold of Raizel when he swayed and almost collapsed on the rubble below them.

 

“Muzaka’s daughter – Ashleen,” Raizel whispered to him, urgently, desperately as if that thought alone was what kept him awake.

 

“Yes?” Frankenstein asked, holding onto him tighter, suddenly scared of what could happen if he let go. There was no way Raizel could actually die, was there? He did not want to think about _that_. “What of her?”

 

“She’s – she’s in a human village nearby. She’s a small brown-haired child, I’m sure you can sense her out,” Raizel paused to cough, splattering more blood all over Frankenstein’s white clothes, dyeing them with his precious life. “Protect her. I – I did my best, but Muzaka could not forgive me for trying to kill his family.”

 

“You did not tell him that they were trying to kill his daughter?” Frankenstein asked incredulously, cradling Raizel’s head and trying to support him properly. His lungs must be flooded with blood. He had to – he should get him back to their base and treat him. He could still fix this since Raizel wasn’t dead _yet_.

 

“I couldn’t, or else he’d have slaughtered them himself, and more. Even the humans who cooperated with them. Maduke did not…come here alone.”

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll take care of her –”

 

“And Muzaka too, he will wake up eventually. He’s not dead,” Raizel continued to speak, even as more and more blood leaked out of his mouth.

 

“He will still be angry when he wakes up. Why didn’t you just kill him if you weren’t going to tell the truth?” Frankenstein asked because he couldn’t help himself. Why would Raizel _do_ that?

 

“It’s okay,” Raizel said with a small smile. He was bleeding all over and possibly _dying_ in Frankenstein’s arms and yet – “It’s okay if he hates only me. He’s my friend, so I couldn’t let him walk down the wrong path.”

 

Frankenstein’s heart clenched. What was wrong with _Raizel_? There was no way anyone could be this kind. There was no way someone whose only task was to kill could be _this_ soft-hearted. There was no way…

 

“Talk later – let me get you somewhere safe first so I can fix you up.”

 

Raizel shook his head. “You can’t. Every time I use my power, I lose my life. It’s already too late for me.”

 

No. “ _No_ ,” Frankenstein whispered, not realising that he had said it out _loud_. “No.”

 

“Forgive me, Frankenstein,” Raizel said, saying his name for the first time. “I cannot assist you anymore in protecting the humans.” He raised his hand and touched Frankenstein’s cheek briefly, in apology, in commiseration or just plain regret, Frankenstein couldn’t tell.

 

“No,” he repeated, feeling a strange numbness engulf his body. He felt stupid and slow. He was a _doctor_ , first and foremost, and while Raizel had never been his patient, he had still been under his care. He couldn’t let him die. Not like this.

 

Raizel’s eyes almost closed, his breath going ragged and his body convulsed with pain. Then those beautiful, breathtaking eyes opened again, unfocused though they were from pain and blood loss. “Don’t consider yourself too weak, however, Frankenstein. When we fought, I’d _Awakened_ you to save your life. It brought forth your potential power, and if that’s not enough, you could – you could give me a little of your blood so we can form a contract.”

 

He knew about contracts. Why would a dying Noble want to contract with him?

 

“It’d give you some of my powers,” Raizel paused again to cough some more, losing more and more blood, and there was _nothing_ Frankenstein could do, was there? “Leave a part of me with you. So the other Nobles won’t – they won’t hurt you. You shouldn’t use those powers if you can help it though, since they will have the same nature as mine.”

 

“Is there a way to save your life instead?” Frankenstein asked instead. He did not want the Noblesse’s powers or his kindness, bestowed so freely and undeservedly. “Please.” Desperation crept into his voice, fighting through the numbness. He could taste despair at the back of his throat, rancid and overpowering. He did not want to think about last night – it had now a strange, dreamlike quality to it. As if it had never happened.

 

Raizel’s breath rattled in his chest wetly as he exhaled and closed his eyes. “There may yet be a way,” he rasped. “If I enter into a deep sleep for a long, long time, I might recover enough. However, if I do that, the contract will bend your will to mine, since it’s a contract of the soul and as long as I live, I’ll be your master.”

 

Had the Noblesse chosen to _die_ so he wouldn’t bind Frankenstein’s will after giving him his powers? He was giving up on his life just so that Frankenstein could get powerful without any consequences, so that he wouldn’t lose his free will. Frankenstein was a _scientist_. He’d done plenty of experiments and gotten his abilities through research and sacrifice. So he knew that nothing came for free, and even so, Raizel wanted to spare him and pay the price himself. Frankenstein could not deal with this anymore. He clutched Raizel to his chest and trembled. “Just – just do what you have to do. I don’t care if you become my master. As long as you don’t die.”

 

“Are you willing to consent to the contract?” Raizel’s voice was growing fainter by the second and Frankenstein had no time to second guess himself. Not that he would have, at any rate.

 

“Yes.”

 

Raizel raised his hand to grasp at Frankenstein’s, pricking his fingertip to draw a tiny drop of blood. He brought it to his own blood-stained lips and licked it clean. Frankenstein felt a surge of an absurd amount of power, burning bright-hot for one glorious second, and then it faded away abruptly as Raizel’s body slipped from his hands.

 

He wasn’t dead – not yet. Just asleep. Resting in the coffin he had summoned from the last reserves of his power. Frankenstein opened the lid once, brushed Raizel’s dark hair away from his forehead and then closed it. The Dark Spear had gone quiet, everything had, in fact, and Frankenstein could think straight after a long, long time.

 

And all he could think about was the loss of Cadis Etrama di Raizel in his life.

 

* * *

 

He had saved Muzaka and Ashleen, just as he’d promised, though he was forced to leave the Union after all that had happened. There was no way it could remain a secret that he’d contracted with the Noblesse. So he made good his escape with a passed out Muzaka, a confused and wary Ashleen, and his Master’s coffin in tow.

 

Muzaka would wake up eventually, so it was good to have Ashleen on hand who could help him calm down and explain. And maybe later Frankenstein could beat some sense into him. He would also probably have to go to talk to the Lord of the Nobles and inform him why they were missing their Noblesse, and the fact that there were traitors in their midst.

 

If his Master had been correct, they wouldn’t harm him since he was now contracted to the Noblesse. They would at least be _willing_ to listen just how badly they’d fucked up. And if they didn’t listen to them, he’d make sure to decimate their entire island. Even if that killed him, because it was the duty of the Noblesse to kill the Nobles who strayed from the path, wasn’t it? He knew it now. Raizel had left a part of himself inside Frankenstein, so performing his duties was now Frankenstein’s duty as well. Raizel might not have agreed, but he wasn’t exactly here to dissuade him.

 

Other than that, he would wait for his Master to wake up from his slumber. Frankenstein knew he would. The proof that Raizel was alive lived inside of him, the tiny but warm connection that linked their souls together. Raizel was still alive – he could feel it deep inside, and as long as that knowledge remained, Frankenstein wouldn’t mind waiting for a thousand years if that was what it took to return Raizel to him.

 

And this time he would do right by him. Protect him the way he’d protected Frankenstein, even with his life.

 

* * *

 

Eight hundred and twenty years later, Frankenstein glanced up from the pile of paperwork on his desk and stood up. A smile rose unbidden to his face as he made his way home, letting himself in and not disturbing Ashleen from her studies. That was what _Muzaka_ did and Frankenstein wouldn’t want to count himself the same as him. He took the elevator down, walking as fast as he can once he was in the innermost part of his house and went to the place where his Master slept for a long, long time.

 

The coffin opened up without any fanfare – what had he been expecting, really – and Cadis Etrama di Raizel sat up slowly. His eyes took in his surroundings and rested unerringly on Frankenstein who greeted him with the warmest, sweetest smile he had ever been able to give.

 

“Welcome back, Master.”

 

“Frankenstein,” Raizel replied softly and took Frankenstein’s hand when it was offered to him.

 

He let himself be pulled into a fierce embrace, let his arms encircle Frankenstein’s back and finally, _finally_ , Frankenstein was able to forgive himself, just a little.


	2. The Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First of the few ideas I couldn't include in the original one-shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as to prove that I didn't waste the entire day yesterday lol.

He found the chains in Frankenstein’s office, hidden away from view but he could sense them out with his power. They still burned dark hot with that cursed energy, reminding him the sting of having them around his skin all the time. He fetched them while Frankenstein went to talk to the Gatekeeper to arrange something for him. The case was locked, but it snapped open in his palms and he picked up the chains gently. His skin tingled with the brush of Frankenstein’s powers against his and he closed his eyes, bringing them to his lips to remember fonder times.

 

It hurt.

 

Not the chains, no, it was the way Frankenstein referred to him as Master. Because Raizel had been selfish and had formed a contract with Frankenstein, when Frankenstein had no idea what a True Contract was like. He had wrapped his chains around Frankenstein’s soul and captured him, and Frankenstein had let him.

 

Raizel put the chains on and hid them under the clothes he’d made for himself, imitating the uniform of Frankenstein’s school and sighed quietly. Frankenstein had made him abreast of how the world had changed, how it had stayed the same, as well. Humans lived longer now. They knew of Nobles and intermingled with them freely. The Union still existed though Frankenstein had taken a lot of it under his wing, with some assistance from Muzaka and the Previous Lord.

 

That Lord was _dead_.

 

Raizel glanced outside the office window, taking in the entirely new world and trying not to think of the last words that Lord had given Frankenstein before entering Eternal Sleep. Frankenstein had reassured him that what he and Raizel had was a True Contract, and the Previous Lord had affirmed it. Raizel could tell that Frankenstein wished to speak a great deal about what other things the Previous Lord had told him, but he refrained so as to not overwhelm Raizel.

 

He smiled to himself and turned back, sitting on the chair just before Frankenstein returned to the room. Frankenstein handed him over to the fearsome Gatekeeper and excused himself, and together they went to Raizel’s new class.

 

The school was a strange place. It was full of human and noble children, and neither of them could properly identify him. Raizel’s energy was different from that of a normal Noble, and since only the Lord could match Raizel’s aura, the noble children were understandably confused. Besides, it was also dulled rather powerfully by the seals the Lord had given him, and then the chains Frankenstein made for him. It was just as well, too, as while they stared openly, they did not seem to fear him in the least.

 

It was a novel experience.

 

He got to taste the delicacies of the current world, and partake in the way these children liked to pass their time after their studies were over. He followed them, listening attentively and trying to absorb as much as he could. The chatter of the children was very lively. He no longer felt the same sense of loneliness he’d felt back in his mansion in Lukedonia. He hadn’t been lonely even for a moment since he’d met Frankenstein, and for that he was eternally grateful to him.

 

The noble children, the scions of the Loyard and Landegre clans, took him back to Frankenstein’s house after he’d produced a picture of Frankenstein. The human children had looked at him strangely, but they hadn’t said anything. He could tell they were trying to spare his feelings and left him in the capable hands of Seira and Regis.

 

Regis kept on glancing at him, from the corner of his eyes and sometimes openly, and Raizel made sure to keep his eyes averted to he wouldn’t accidentally shame Regis for such inelegant behaviour. He was probably only trying to figure out his identity, but he wouldn’t use mind-control to do so. That was good. They still upheld the ideals that Raizel protected with his life and soul.

 

At Frankenstein’s home, Frankenstein sat them all down and introduced them to each other.

 

“This is Cadis Etrama di Raizel,” he said in a reverent tone. “He’ll be staying with us from now on.”       

 

“These are Seira J. Loyard and Regis K. Landegre, as you are no doubt aware by now.” The children nodded.

 

“Ashleen was around until a while ago, but she’s been busy with her latest project and will be out for a while. Other than that, Muzaka also lives here though he’s out at the moment as well. Other nobles come and go whenever it suits their fancy.” Frankenstein made a face at that and refilled Raizel’s cup once again.

 

Raizel did not speak until the children retired for the night. He set the cup down and stared at the golden brown liquid for a while in contemplation. “Muzaka lives here?”

 

“Yes,” Frankenstein said. “Much to my annoyance. He said he wanted to stick around until he could properly apologise to you. He woke up rather enraged, but I had taken him to the Previous Lord and he dealt with him rather swiftly.” Frankenstein said in a way that suggested that the Lord’s efficiency in dealing with Muzaka was rather admirable, but Frankenstein wouldn’t be caught dead praising the Lord of the Nobles. Knowing that Lord’s idiosyncrasies, Raizel couldn’t blame him either.  “But you wouldn’t believe how firm _Ashleen_ was once she could get to him.”

 

Raizel sipped his tea without comment.

 

Frankenstein’s eyes had a faraway look, but he snapped back to present and shook his head. “I had never seen Muzaka look so chastised and ashamed. Things were easier after that. The Previous Lord took personal interest in my quest to save humanity as it had been partially his fault for not being able to keep his people in check. Urokai defected back to your side, once he learned of your fate and how upset he’d made you feel.” Frankenstein winced a little then, radiating discomfort. “The Previous Lord also decided that apparently, being contracted to you made me his _son-in-law_ , and as such, Raskreia’s brother-in-law.”

 

Raizel paused mid-sip, though he recovered fairly quickly and resumed drinking as if he’d never done that. He was sure Frankenstein caught that little slip, however.

 

“The current Nobles don’t know much about you. The Previous Lord had decided that it was time to put an end to the duties of the Noblesse for good.  Since saving you was a rather intensive job – all the Nobles who were about to follow the Lord into eternal sleep contributed a great amount of their soul help heal your body. The Lord then decreed that there was no need for you to ever expend your life again in order to uphold the Noble standards. The children were perfectly capable of doing it themselves. With proper guidance and training, that is.”

 

“And you’re the one providing them that?” Raizel asked, looking at Frankenstein directly.

 

Frankenstein nodded with a hint of smile. “Yes.”

 

Raizel placed the cup back in the saucer and continued looking at Frankenstein. He couldn’t quantify how he felt about this anymore. There was enough gratitude inside him to fill the rest of his life, no matter how long it may be. “You’re not just a protector of humanity – you have extended your protection to the nobles as well.”

 

“They were dear to you, weren’t they?” Frankenstein asked.

 

“…Yes.” He did not deserve this much consideration. He did not deserve _this_ much devotion and kindness. He could no longer hold Frankenstein’s gaze without breaking his composure. He didn’t even know what to do with his hands or mouth.

 

“Of course, I didn’t do it out of gratitude or a sense of obligation,” Frankenstein was saying – trying to reassure him that Raizel did not need feel bad about any of this. “I did it to protect the innocent people, and that does include the nobles, when they are like you. I wished that when you opened your eyes next, the world would be a kinder place.”

 

What could Raizel to say to that? He’d always known that humans, even with their short lives, were capable of kindness and greatness that far surpassed their existences, but Frankenstein had somehow managed to go beyond every possible expectation. He couldn’t even say a word of gratitude because none of it would be enough, and Frankenstein wouldn’t want it any way. He didn’t do it to be thanked, after all, but he did it for Raizel’s sake and Raizel had no idea how to reciprocate, if that was even possible.

 

The same Frankenstein had also surrendered his will and soul to Raizel without a single thought. Just how much was Raizel going to take from Frankenstein before it was too much?

 

“What’s wrong?” Frankenstein asked suddenly, placing the kettle down and coming up next to him with concern-filled eyes.

 

He couldn’t reply, but that only served to worry Frankenstein more.

 

“Master?”

 

Unable to take it anymore, Raizel placed his fingers over Frankenstein’s lips, silencing him. “Do not call me that.”

 

Frankenstein frowned a little, but then his attention was caught by the sudden glint of metal on Raizel’s wrist and his frown deepened. “Where did you get these? Why are you wearing them?”

 

He grabbed at Raizel’s wrists and slipped his fingers below the chains, about to rip them off that Raizel was forced to act. He shook his head, grasping Frankenstein’s hand with his. “Please don’t break them. I saw them in your office and put them on.”

 

“Why?” Frankenstein whispered, wounded. There was such deep anguish in his eyes that Raizel’s chest ached.

 

He had caused this, hadn’t he? How come he could never do anything right by his human? “They feel like you,” he explained, trying to find the right words and failing miserably. He wasn’t used to saying things out loud, much less explaining himself for the things he did, but he needed to soothe Frankenstein. “They remind me of a good time, the time I was with you. They remind me of your kindness towards me.”

 

It was Frankenstein's turn to be stunned and he stood there frozen for the space of several breathes. Then he closed his eyes and trembled slightly. “No, they are not. They are painful to touch. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to be in pain and that’s why I made them like these. I kept them because they reminded me of my failure to treat you with the kindness you deserve.”

 

“I did not mind that,” Raizel told him.

 

“That’s worse, you know. You didn’t even know how horribly you were being treated and even after I realised that, I did nothing whatsoever to stop.” Frankenstein brought Raizel’s wrists to his face and buried his face in them. “I treated you like a pet, a possession. I chained you up and dishonoured you when you had done nothing to deserve that kind of treatment.”

 

Frankenstein’s distress affected Raizel far more acutely than he could have expected. Their bond channelled all of Frankenstein’s guilt and misery over the long, long years where he’d blamed himself. Raizel did not know how to properly comfort Frankenstein or convince him that Raizel hadn’t minded that.

 

So he did the next best thing, which was to slide down from the couch until he was also kneeling in front of Frankenstein and pressed their lips together. He still remembered the positive effect it had on Frankenstein back then – he was just as agitated and it had helped him calm down. Besides, Raizel had been meaning to bring the topic up again in any case, considering how enjoyable he had found the last time to be. The Previous Lord might have been slightly eccentric, but he was nonetheless wise.

 

It seemed to be working too, given the way Frankenstein sort of whimpered into the kiss at first and then returned it with a fervour that surprised Raizel as well. However, the moment Raizel opened his mouth to let Frankenstein’s tongue in, someone walked in on them and dropped whatever they had been holding, breaking it and the moment as well.

 

It was a glass full of water. It shattered upon impact and soaked the floor, drawing Frankenstein’s well-earned ire. Raizel got up and sat down on the couch as if nothing happened – and it wasn’t like he was ashamed of it, so what was the point in acting embarrassed. He turned to look at the intruder once he’d fixed his creased clothing and found himself face to face with a sheepish-looking Muzaka.

 

“I’m sorry!” He was exclaiming at Frankenstein. “I didn’t mean to.”

 

“This is the fourth glass you have been broken since we moved to this country,” Frankenstein said in an icy tone.

 

“So,” Muzaka scratched his cheek in contemplation. “Four in around sixty years?”

 

“That’s _four too many_.”

 

Muzaka did not argue further wisely, and Frankenstein continued to glare daggers at him while Raizel ignored both of them in favour of pouring himself a fresh cup of tea. Once Frankenstein had remonstrated enough, Muzaka shuffled over to the couch and sat down heavily next to him, eyes still averted.

 

“Raizel,” he said eventually when Raizel did not prompt him to speak. “I’m…I’m really sorry.”

 

“There is nothing you have to apologise for,” Raizel said, because that was the truth. Raizel could have explained his motives, except then Muzaka would have hurt werewolves – the ones he was supposed to protect, and Raizel did not want to burden him with the same fate as him. It was a choice he made – Muzaka had no reason to blame himself.

 

“I almost killed you,” Muzaka said, lowering his head in his hands and hunching over. “My only friend. Instead of thanking you for saving my daughter’s life, I repaid you by forcing you into a corner.”

 

Raizel felt himself at a loss. Too many people were apologising him for things that Raizel did not see as infractions, and he had no way to pacify them. And he knew he couldn’t use the same method on Muzaka as he did on Frankenstein.

 

Raizel reached out and patted him on the back instead, hoping it’d stop him from feeling bad over things that were mostly Raizel’s fault. Frankenstein cleared his throat pointedly then, making both of them look up.

 

“Well, it’s time for bed for all of us. Master, if you’d follow me.”

 

Raizel got up, glad that Frankenstein had rescued him from the awkwardness of it all, and followed him to his bedroom. Once Frankenstein had shut the door off, he turned around and sagged against the wood.

 

“Can you please take those chains off? If –” He looked conflicted for a moment. “If you like them so much, I can make you a new pair. Just take these off.”

 

Raizel had no desire to make Frankenstein feel guilty so he did as he was told and passed the chains back to Frankenstein. He crushed them in his grip and wrapped his arms around Raizel, bringing him close.

 

“Stay.” It was the same entreaty Frankenstein had made _that_ night, and while Raizel denied him back then, he had no desire to do so twice. He would stay, as long as Frankenstein would want him to. As long as he breathed, he’d stay right by Frankenstein’s side, this he could promise.

 

 


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I meant to write smut, but I was writing this on a train and the two dudes sitting next to me kept staring at the document so I chickened out. Sorry.

It was a fine day. Frankenstein sat in his chair and looked over at the assembled members of the Union with a certain benevolence in his gaze. He felt at the top of the world: with the Noblesse at his feet, and the threats to his leadership reduced to zero, what more could he want?

 

The sentiment wasn’t shared across the board, of course, and he could feel the room abuzz with resentment. And nowhere was it higher than with the Lukedonian traitors. Not all of them were present, but Frankenstein knew their identities nonetheless. He hadn’t shared it with Raizel, if only because the Noblesse was his captive, a pet, a plaything, not someone whose feelings, ideas and opinions he needed to take into account.

 

He crossed his legs and rested his cheek nonchalantly on his palm, looking at Urokai’s flushed face. Urokai’s crimson eyes were riveted to the sight in front of him: Raizel bound in delicate golden bonds, clad only in a flimsy white robe that exposed his long legs. And to complete the ensemble, Frankenstein had wrapped a silken blindfold, deep red in colour, around Raizel’s eyes.

 

Frankenstein had tried a lot of things, going through numerous outfits and ideas before he’d chanced upon this. The idea was to display Raizel to the world, but keep him untouchable – chained to Frankenstein as he was – and make sure that none of his beauty was diminished. His dignity definitely took a beating, though the way Raizel carried himself belied that.

 

He had been embarrassed, indeed, but he’d put up with Frankenstein’s treatment with all the grace and poise he could muster. Even now there was a defiant tilt to his chin as he sat there, unable to see and unable to walk away and it amused Frankenstein endlessly.

 

So did Urokai’s livid expression.

 

Meanwhile, the Third Elder kept on giving his report while ignoring Frankenstein’s hand on Raizel’s head steadfastly. Rocitis and Zarga both had their eyes firmly averted to avoid causing a scene like Urokai was doing.

 

There was only so much someone like Urokai take, and that was why half an hour into their meeting, he stood up, pushing his chair back with a loud sound. He had his soul weapon out within the next moment – Frankenstein recalled that it was called Dragus – and it was pointed squarely at Frankenstein’s face. It only made him smile wider, however, even as a hush fell over the rest of the room. It was telling that none of them wished to jump in and defuse the situation.

 

“Something the matter?” He asked mockingly, brushing Raizel’s hair away from his forehead in a playful manner to emphasise his point.

 

“Unhand him,” Urokai growled, waving his large soul weapon and everyone in the room braced themselves against the stir of energy from it.

 

“You prefer that I let him go so that he can punish you for your crimes?” Frankenstein asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Urokai blanched, but he did not lower his weapon or change his stance. “I prefer that to seeing him like this.”

 

“Urokai,” Raizel was the one who spoke now, arresting Frankenstein’s attention. “Go back to Lukedonia.”

 

Dragus shook in Urokai’s hands as he stared at Raizel in shock. Frankenstein removed his hand from Raizel’s head and considered him thoughtfully. At first he used to think that the Noblesse was a weapon used by the Nobles to keep anything stronger than them in check, including Werewolves and any human who dared to go beyond his limit. He was also the Lord’s tool to keep every single Noble under his thumb and follow his ideals. It was only recently that he’d figured out that while it was technically _true_ , the reality was still something different.

 

The Noblesse operated on a set of principles Frankenstein wasn’t aware of, but he knew that they did not come from somewhere else. Otherwise Raizel wouldn’t be here. Loathe as he was to admit it, Raizel had had plenty of opportunity to escape Frankenstein’s sham of an imprisonment, and each time he’d refused to take it. He hadn’t protested any of the treatment he was put through either. So unless he found himself submitting to any higher power there was – and wasn’t _that_ a thought? – Raizel’s behaviour made very little sense.

 

Even though his actions resembled a man who was used to being controlled, it was apparent that the submission was entirely _voluntary_. Yet, the Lord hadn’t treated the Noblesse like the way Frankenstein was doing – if the reaction of the Lukedonian traitors was any indication.

 

Frankenstein couldn’t claim to understand, intrigued though he was.

 

Urokai had retracted his soul weapon in the meanwhile. Whether or not he’d taken Raizel’s advice to heart, it was hard to tell, but for now he’d taken his seat and resorted to staring sullenly at his feet. At least he wasn’t openly crying at being chastised by Raizel, so there was that.

 

The Third Elder cleared his throat, picking up another scroll and unrolling it with a flourish. The meeting resumed right from where it had left off, but by now even Frankenstein’s attention was split between the report and Raizel’s perplexing behaviour.

 

The meeting concluded an hour later, with nobody any wiser what it had been about. Frankenstein did not consider it much of a loss, considering he’d had a chance to see a soul weapon out in the open, though not in action. He glanced down where Raizel sat, for the first time since Raizel had opened his mouth to stop Urokai and he noticed that Raizel was a little…listless, perhaps.

 

Frankenstein put his hand on Raizel’s face, cupping his chin and lifting his face, but there was no discernible reaction to his touch. It reminded him of the time he’d left Raizel alone in the prison and when he’d returned, Raizel hadn’t been very responsive. That was for a much longer time, however, so Frankenstein wasn’t sure what exactly happened. He looked around the room, and much to his relief, the hall had emptied out in the time he’d spent contemplating Raizel’s behaviour, save for a few servants clearing the place up.

 

Frankenstein leaned down and scooped Raizel into his arms, a little concerned by how little he seemed to weigh, and carried him back to his room. He could have carried Raizel back to his prison, but he didn’t think it would be such a good idea in his current condition. The Noblesse was still his enemy and _yet_.

 

He put Raizel down on his own bed and took the blindfold off, grimacing when he saw the vacant look in Raizel’s beautiful eyes. He did not know how the Nobles processed sensory input, and what would happen if he deprived them of one. Here was an example, however, that he was reluctant to replicate even for science. He enclosed Raizel’s face in his palms and looked at his eyes, examining them by tugging gently on the eyelids. It garnered no reaction.

 

Frankenstein sat down. Raizel’s skin was cool to touch, not radiating human warmth like it used to, and Frankenstein wondered just how deep Raizel’s consciousness must have fallen for the control over his body to slip like this. Something akin to guilt sank its claws in Frankenstein’s chest, though he tried not to think about it.

 

It must have been the reminder that the Nobles had betrayed him as well as being unable to look outside the window that caused this. Frankenstein pursed his lips, grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around Raizel’s shoulders.

 

When that did not seem to work, Frankenstein gathered Raizel in his arms to share his body’s heat with him. He wasn’t sure if it’d work, but he wanted to see what would happen. It had nothing to do with what Frankenstein thought of the Noblesse – it was simply a way to gather more data on a Noble this powerful, and yet so, _so_ fragile.

 

And sure enough, Raizel’s body twitched a little in his embrace. His eyelashes fluttered and lips trembled – brief, so very brief, had Frankenstein not been watching so closely, he’d have missed it – and life seemed to return to Raizel’s eyes. His cheeks regained a little colour and he breathed, one gentle inhale after another.

 

Frankenstein let go, letting Raizel rest against the pillows instead. “What happened to you?” He asked, wrapping the blanket a little tighter around Raizel’s frame.

 

At first he received no answer for his trouble, but when he did not relent, Raizel met his gaze and spoke in a tone devoid of any inflection, “I was thinking something.”

 

“Does thinking for you involve not being able to focus on your surroundings also?”

 

“Not always.”

 

“Was it because I had blindfolded you?” Frankenstein ventured. So far the Noblesse had been rather forthcoming, so he decided to push his luck and see how far that got him.

 

“You removed your hand.”

 

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

 

Raizel gauged his confusion correctly and proceeded to explain, “Without you touching me and being unable to see, I forgot where I was.”

 

So a simple touch could ground Raizel, and a tiny bit of forgetfulness could uproot him thusly? Frankenstein should have felt powerful, to be able to affect a creature like this, to have it eating out of his hand – literally in some cases – and yet, all he felt was a niggling sense of guilt.

 

“I’ll take better care in future,” Raizel said and stood up, taking the blanket along with him. He went to sit down on the couch next to the window and proceeded to stare outside, as if nothing had happened.

 

Frankenstein almost wanted to reach out, to grab hold of Raizel’s arm and pull him back and then _what_. He did not know, so he did not act upon the sudden impulse. He clenched his fist and frowned, trying to reconcile what he needed to do and what he had done, and how ill it sat with him. Looking at Raizel’s forlorn face did not help – no, it just made him feel like he’d done something really awful, despite being who he was.

 

* * *

 

Two months after Raizel had first woken up, they had their first visitor from Lukedonia, and it was just Frankenstein’s luck that ended up being Urokai. He hadn’t informed Lukedonia of Raizel’s return, or else his house would have been a lot more crowded right now. Still, couldn’t they have sent someone like Rajak or Rosaria? Maybe even Ludis?

 

Urokai’s greeting was boisterous as he stepped into the house, patting little Regis on the head, much to Regis’ displeasure and smiled at Seira who gave a small smile of her own in return. He’d given Frankenstein a respectful nod, a proof of how far he’d come from being a bratty, impulsively rash clan leader, and walked in, only to freeze as his eyes landed on Raizel’s face.

 

The last time they’d seen each other was when Raizel had told him to go back to Lukedonia, and Urokai _had_ , once he’d learned of Raizel’s fate. Raizel had _known_ of their plan, and yet he’d asked Urokai to go back, to not betray the Lord, so he’d followed Raizel’s last command to him. Even Frankenstein could acknowledge that.

 

“Urokai,” Raizel greeted him, placing his teacup on the table and regarding him with a kind gaze.

 

“Sir Raizel,” Urokai whispered, going up to where Raizel sat and falling on his knees in front of him, and lowered his head. “You’re awake.”

 

“I am,” Raizel said, then placed a hand over Urokai’s shoulder gently. “I cannot sense Dragus within you anymore. Did you pass it on to the next clan leader?”

 

Urokai lifted his head and smiled – a true smile, this time. “No, I have no heir. The Agvain clan has been disbanded, so as to speak.”

 

“Then –” Raizel paused, the truth becoming apparent to him with a cursory check and his eyes widened.

 

“I gave it to you, Sir Raizel, so that your wounds may heal. I just hope you can forgive me for the wounds I inflicted upon your heart, because nothing I do can heal those.”

 

Frankenstein looked at the children gaping at the scene unfold in front of them – even Seira – so he cleared his throat. It attracted the attention of both of them and they blushed, caught in the act of eavesdropping over what had to be a private conversation. He motioned them to follow him and led them away, not wanting to cause any of them any discomfort later. Besides, he knew what Urokai was going to say to Raizel, and he knew how Raizel would react to it in any case.

 

He could already feel how deeply unhappy Raizel felt over Urokai giving up his soul weapon, his position as a clan leader for him. The position was stripped from him as a punishment, but the idea of disbanding his clan and producing no heir was Urokai’s self-inflicted penance. Urokai wanted to go as far as to enter eternal sleep to complete the weapon and then hand it over to Frankenstein, so that Frankenstein could then use it to heal Raizel’s wounded spirit, but neither the Lord nor Frankenstein was in favour of such a drastic measure.

 

They knew how Raizel would feel if he ever found out, and he was bound to, so they managed to stop him.

 

“Why is Urokai Agvain bowing to him?” Regis asked, the moment they were out of earshot. Regis was still young, and having spent an extended period of time amongst humans, was prone to asking questions that other Nobles wouldn’t. Seira was showing remarkable poise in the face of curiosity they both felt. “Who is he that even he, a former clan leader, is addressing so politely? He’s not the Lord, so why…”

 

Frankenstein sighed. Urokai lacked any manner of subtlety and was bound to cause a scene – as he had often in the past – and that was the entire reason Frankenstein did not want him coming here at first. Any other clan leader, former or present, would have been a better choice. Even Karias. Okay, perhaps not Karias, but.

 

“You have heard of the man who unified humanity and rescued it from the clutches of the Union?” Frankenstein asked, sighing again and taking a seat. Depending upon what they had heard in Lukedonia, this could be a long story.

 

“Yes,” Seira answered, taking the seat opposite him and facing him head on. She knew she was prying, so she had to acknowledge the lapse in her composure by facing Frankenstein without excuse. “We have been told about that man.”

 

“Have you heard about his connection the Nobles?”

 

“Yes, we have been told that he was the first human to ever form a contract with the Noblesse and took upon his noble duty to protect the weak from the strong in the Noblesse’s absence. Never in our history have we ever seen such devotion and display of trust and love between a human and a noble,” Regis said as if he was reciting it from a book. Perhaps that was true, too, damn that Lord.

 

Frankenstein resisted the urge to smack his forehead with his palm and tried to smile. “Well, that’s the gist of it. You haven’t heard of Urokai Agvain’s involvement in the entire affair, have you?”

 

Seira frowned. “He resigned from the position of a clan leader because he’d tried to betray Lukedonia, except he redeemed himself by saving –” She broke off mid-sentence and turned her eyes towards Regis to see the exact same realisation hit him at the same time.

 

“Yes,” Frankenstein said with another sigh. “Cadis Etrama di Raizel is the one true Noblesse.”

 

Regis’ mouth fell open – rather inelegant, but he could be excused for once. Even Seira looked flustered, which was rare for her. They probably understood why they were so enchanted by Raizel’s presence, and found themselves admiring and imitating him despite not knowing his real identity. The Noblesse was the pinnacle of the Noble race, embodying every single ideal they strove towards. It was impossible not to be affected by his mere existence.

 

“Does that mean,” Seira said slowly, turning her gaze back on Frankenstein’s face. “That you’re the human who bound himself to the Noblesse?”

 

Frankenstein nodded. If anything, Regis looked even _more_ thunderstruck and Seira looked appropriately impressed. She had managed to regain her calm, though her cheeks were still tinged pink somewhat. He could understand why, too, if the Previous Lord had toted Frankenstein and Raizel’s _relationship_ as a love story – was it not? No, it wasn’t – and an example to emulate and aim for. He still remembered the day he’d gone up to the Lord for the first time, Raizel’s coffin in tow – nobody had dared to stop him given the Noblesse’s aura emanating from him – and the Lord had welcomed him with open arms.

 

He still did not understand the Previous Lord, and that was a constant source of frustration in otherwise spotless life.

 

The other being how horribly he had treated Raizel, but.

 

The difference between the two was that at least he loved Raizel and he meant to make every single amend he was allowed to make.

 

“We are sorry, teacher,” Seira interrupted his thoughts, driving him out of the reverie he’d fallen into.

 

He shook his head and wished he had some tea – Urokai was still in the living room, and the kitchen was right next to it – to smooth things over. “Do not mind Urokai. He’s a lot like me, trying to make it up to the Noblesse in his own way.”

 

The children nodded solemnly and excused themselves to go to their respective rooms. They’d stay out of the way until they were summoned for dinner so that everyone could have the privacy they needed. Frankenstein smiled fondly at their retreating backs and then leaned back in his chair, reflecting on his past once more. Urokai might be forgiven, but he had no such illusions about himself. Even if Raizel wished to forgive him – and had, indeed, done so – there was no way he could forgive _himself_.

 

* * *

 

The moonlight fell across Frankenstein’s room, entering through the large window on the side, and bathed the entire space in a milky glow. Frankenstein was lying quietly on his bed, unable to sleep or even rest. His brain was far too agitated to try the sleeping thing tonight. Not that he needed a lot of sleep, but a bit of shut-eye wouldn’t go amiss from time to time. Except, his conscience was in the mood of tormenting him today and as such the mere idea of rest was miles away from him.

 

The sudden appearance of Urokai brought back far too many awful memories. He remembered the day he’d blindfolded Raizel and forced him to retreat into himself, sinking deep into his guilty conscience – even if he had no reason to feel that way – and feel the weight of his duty acutely. What Frankenstein felt right now was nothing compared to how Raizel had, and at least Frankenstein had means of distracting himself and he wasn’t chained to some asshole’s chair for his amusement.

 

Frankenstein bit his lip and buried his face in the pillow, trying not to relive those memories. He did not want to think of Raizel’s eyes, so empty of life, back then and the way his body had simply shut down unable to maintain the semblance of being alive. Frankenstein had caused that. How could he forgive himself when he’d done something like that?

 

“Frankenstein,” Raizel’s voice floated over, breaking the stifling silence of the room.

 

Frankenstein sat bolt upright and stared at the door, heart pounding, where Raizel stood at the threshold, silhouetted by the warm yellow glow of corridor lights. “Yes, Master?”

 

Raizel shut the door behind him and came to sit on Frankenstein’s bed, arranging himself to Frankenstein’s liking so he was leaning on Frankenstein’s side. “Urokai finally calmed down.”

 

“Did he?” He asked, surprised, because it had been _hours_ since he last saw them, and yet Urokai had looked distraught as ever.

 

Raizel nodded, setting his head on Frankenstein’s shoulder. “He’s sleeping in the living room as he was too exhausted to go find a room for himself. I hope you don’t mind?”

 

“I don’t mind.” And it was true too. He couldn’t blame Urokai, though he was envious that he’d been able to find some rest. “Tomorrow he must take a room or go back to Lukedonia, however.”

 

“I will inform him of that.” Raizel linked their fingers together and lifted their joined hands to admire the softly glinting metal on his wrist. “He said he did not wish to continue living any more after he’d done his part in my recovery.” Raizel sounded so pained that Frankenstein squeezed his fingers, pulling him closer into his body. “”Even so I’m glad he’s still alive.”

 

“He has definitely made every effort to make up for everything he did, and beyond,” Frankenstein said. “He shouldn’t let his guilt torment him further.”

 

Raizel lifted his face to look at him.

 

“I know what you want to say,” Frankenstein said, grimacing. “Except my case isn’t the same.”

 

“You, too, have done far and beyond what was required to make up for your actions, not that they were dishonourable. Your desire was to protect the humanity – still is, and you have done an admirable job. Back then you lacked the resources and power to do so, that’s why you did everything you could. You got the power, but you got trapped into an uncomfortable position because of the method you used to get that power. No one blames you, Frankenstein, because you made the choice to break away when it went beyond your principles.”

 

Frankenstein hid his face with his hand and trembled a little. “No, they had already gone beyond my principles a long time ago. In fact, I’m not sure what _principles_ I had that allowed me to abuse someone as innocent as you.”

 

“You did not know I was innocent,” Raizel pointed out.

 

“No, I could have realised that the moment I met you, had I bothered to. Most people do, don’t they?” It was sweet of him to try to reassure Frankenstein, but he knew himself best. He remembered exactly how good it had felt to exercise that much control over a creature that refused to fight back or defend itself, and Frankenstein had revelled in it. He had taken every possible advantage of the situation.

 

“You thought I was the weapon of the Nobles, because that’s what they had told you.” So Urokai had mentioned that, then. “You were told that I was a heartless executioner, and that isn’t that far from reality. Your priority required you to use every possible avenue you could afford. I do not blame you. If I had, I’d have escaped any time I liked.”

 

“I abused you,” Frankenstein whispered, disentangling his fingers from Raizel’s grip and hunching over. “I made you think _this_ –” He pointed at the golden bonds on Raizel’s hands. “– was acceptable behaviour. I made you get used to it and I conditioned you into thinking that if there’s pleasure accompanying the pain, you should endure it. I never even ascertained that it was something you _wanted_.”

 

Raizel was silent. Frankenstein’s heart sank a little more because he knew Raizel had no way to defend Frankenstein’s ill-doings. Not that he wished to be comforted by Raizel – he did not deserve that.

 

“I took you to my bed without asking if you were okay with it. I should have just –”

 

Raizel placed his finger over Frankenstein’s lips, silencing him and frowned at him. “Did it escape your notice, Frankenstein that I was there entirely out of my free will? If I let you chain me, it was because I wished it so. I, too, wished to protect the ones I must protect without hurting anyone. Until then the only way I had to protect someone was to take their life forcibly. But when I was with you, I was able to assist you in protecting the humans without hurting a single person. To a Noblesse like me, that is something to be grateful about. What is the loss of some dignity compared to the matter of countless lives?” Raizel paused to let everything he’d said sink in. “I have said this to Urokai, and I’ll say this to you too.” Frankenstein winced. He’d forced Raizel to comfort him, after all, and that too on heels of doing the same for Urokai. “If at any point I sensed that my position as the Noblesse and all its propriety ever came into question, I’d have abandoned your side for the sake of my duty – as, you might recall, I did when it became imperative for me to step in and save Muzaka’s daughter.”

 

“That may be true, I do not dispute that,” Frankenstein admitted. _However:_ “The fact that you did not have any idea about any kind of interpersonal relationship, and the only experience I gave you was one such as this? That’s unforgivable.”

 

Raizel sighed. He sounded exhausted – he did deal with Urokai for the better part of the evening, so that was completely reasonable. And now Frankenstein was being difficult, even if justifiably so, he shouldn’t be bothering Raizel over something that was _entirely_ his fault.

 

“Forgive me, this isn’t something that you need to concern yourself with. I’ll find a way to atone for it, even if it takes a while.”

 

“When you touched me, I really liked it,” Raizel said. His face warmed under Frankenstein’s watch, but he did not shy away. “Even when it was painful, I could feel you with me and that’s why I never felt alone. Is that not enough?”

 

“No,” Frankenstein said quietly.

 

“The past is the past, Frankenstein. We cannot alter it any more than we can bring dead people back to life. What matters is that we are together now.” Raizel curled into Frankenstein’s side, wrapping his arm around Frankenstein’s torso.

 

There was a momentary hesitation on Frankenstein’s part before he, too, returned Raizel’s embrace and held him tight. His breath yanked right out of his chest and he couldn’t seem to get his bearings in order. The guilt was ever present; however, Raizel’s proximity, Raizel’s love for him and all his attempts to help Frankenstein, they helped assuage some of the pain that came with it.

 

“Even during those times—” Raizel pressed his lips to Frankenstein’s tenderly. “I could feel your kindness, no matter how harsh you pretended to be – you couldn’t afford to be kind and yet you always were. That’s why I wanted to stay by your side.”

 

Frankenstein kissed him back. When he pulled back, he felt a lot better – Raizel _really_ knew how to make him feel at ease. “All right, Master. I can’t really let myself off the hook here, but there’s no point in feeling sorry over it. Like you said, I cannot change the past. What I can do is to make you happy in the present and I guess this isn’t helping. What should I do?”

 

“You can start by not calling me Master.”

 

Did it bother him _that_ much? “Okay, what should I call you then?”

 

Raizel tilted his head, quite like a cat, and smiled faintly. “Rai.”

 

“Rai,” he said, a little hesitant and awkward. But he needn’t have worried, because the moment that name left his lips, a soft smile appeared on Raizel’s lips so breathtaking that Frankenstein had to remember to keep drawing oxygen into his lungs. Raizel was terribly _sweet_ and Frankenstein had no idea what he’d done to deserve him.

 

It really was that simple to make him unbelievably happy. It was sad that no one had bothered to understand before, and it explained why he loved those children so. Their generous and uncomplicated affection had made him happier than he’d ever been before. Nobody had thought to provide the Noblesse the same thing that he gave to everyone so freely: acceptance and kindness.

 

However, Frankenstein knew now, and he was going to make sure that Raizel’s life from hereon was full of as much kindness and love as he could hold in his heart, and then some _more_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But Raizel had not wished for a pedestal – what he’d wanted was perhaps a lot simpler, humbler than that, and Frankenstein had failed to realise it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last installment of Ties That Bind. It was a fun ride and I derived a lot of amusement tinkering with the canon~ I'm sorry if the ending feels a tiny bit rushed - the smut refused to go beyond that no matter how I poked and prodded at it. I'm satisfied with it otherwise, so there's that. Have at!

As Frankenstein worked out the last of the figures on the report in front of him, the door to his office opened and closed soundlessly. He still had three more piles of paperwork left to do, so even if it was Raizel visiting him, Frankenstein did not want to leave the report unfinished. He did raise his head in greeting and reached out to open the window by his side. The wind ruffled the sheets of paper next to him and he only had a few seconds to secure all of them with paperweights. That done, he went back to the long line of expenses that seemed to make no sense.

He supposed he should take that break now and make Raizel some tea. He could use some himself, after all. Thus decided, he was about to put his work down and get up that he noticed that Raizel was fairly close now. Frankenstein looked up, a question in his eyes, and Raizel replied by going on his knees and arranging his legs so he could sit comfortably at Frankenstein's legs. It was sudden enough to still him, allowing whatever Raizel was pulling to go unhindered.

Then he remembered. It had been so long ago that his mind did not catch up right away, but for Raizel it had been very little time. He was taking his accustomed place next to Frankenstein's chair, as he used to back when he was a prisoner – a sham though that might have been. First the chains, now this: what was Frankenstein going to do about this?

Raizel rested his head against Frankenstein's knees and closed his eyes, hands folded in his lap in a comfortable silence.

Frankenstein did not share that sentiment. "What are you doing?"

Raizel did not answer him, other than by letting out a soft, quiet sigh. Frankenstein resisted the urge to put his fingers into the fine dark hair and play with it, to take whatever Raizel was offering, if not for his guilty conscience.

"You shouldn't do this anymore," he said, putting the paper down and sighing himself. "You aren't my prisoner or a trophy."

A frown marred those peaceful features and Raizel opened his eyes to look at him. A pang shot through Frankenstein's heart and he clenched his fists out of Raizel's sight.

"You refuse to touch me unless I touch you first," Raizel remarked, tilting his head. "I wondered if this would make you do it."

Frankenstein placed his hand – and to his credit, it only trembled a little – on Raizel's hair as he'd wanted to and smoothed it down. "You want me to touch you?"

"Yes," Raizel said and pressed his cheek against Frankenstein's trousers, warming the cold fabric with his breath.

"You don't have to sit at my feet for that."

Raizel stood up then, leaving his perch at Frankenstein's feet in a dignified manner and brushed at his clothes. There wasn't any dust, but Raizel hated his clothes getting messed up – which meant he'd taken a seat on the floor completely outside his comfort zone. Frankenstein did not know if he should be touched or upset. He hadn't realised he had been avoiding initiating physical contact with Raizel, but that was a given, wasn't it, given their positions. Raizel might have chosen to humble himself at Frankenstein's feet, might have adorned himself in chains that tied him to Frankenstein, but that did not change what he was.

Frankenstein was simply too unworthy.

"Do I repulse you that much, Frankenstein?"

Frankenstein flinched and Raizel's face became even more troubled than before.

"Is it because of the contract I forced on you?" Raizel continued. "I chained you to myself without a thought about how you must feel."

Frankenstein raised his hand a little and shook his head, trying to indicate his desire to be given a few moments to think. He couldn't quite understand what Raizel was getting at, because his words made _no sense_ whatsoever. Did Raizel perhaps feel guilty over the contract still? He saw it as chaining Frankenstein, then perhaps –

"It's true that at the moment when we made our contract, I wasn't aware of what it entailed. Of course, I knew about contracts from the other Nobles; however, I had no idea about the true contracts. Still," he said, glancing at Raizel's face and hurrying because it seemed like his words were having the opposite effect. "I wanted to be with you, no matter the cost. I wanted _you_ , even if it meant selling my soul." Raizel looked positively stricken. "I haven't regretted a second of the time I've spent bound to you thus. If you can even call it that. I certainly don't. It's made me happier than I've ever dared to think of."

Frankenstein cupped Raizel's hands in his and brushed the chains on his wrists with his thumbs. "Why do you wear these chains? Is it not because you want to be connected to me? Is it not similar if I want to be connected to you?"

Raizel's eyes followed the movement of Frankenstein's thumbs; he wouldn't meet Frankenstein's eyes yet. "It's not the same. What are some physical chains compared to the binding of your soul itself?"

"Indeed, what are the chains that I put on you with malicious intent compared to the fact that you wanted to lay down your life so as to not impose your will on me?" Frankenstein sighed. He couldn't believe that they'd danced around this topic for so long. He was fully aware that the fault lied with him and not Raizel – of course, Raizel had never meant to put such a chasm between the two of them. It was Frankenstein who had put it there and hurt Raizel for it.

"It's disingenuous to compare the two."

Frankenstein agreed. "Yes, however, that doesn't change the fact that the underlying sentiment behind both actions is the same." He smiled and pulled Raizel closer. "I'm sorry for being such an idiot and making you second-guess yourself, Rai."

That made him look up. He rarely used Raizel's chosen name – the name bestowed to him by the humans he loved so – certainly not before when Raizel was something akin to a pet, and not after he'd woken up considering their connection. But Raizel had not wished for a pedestal – what he'd wanted was perhaps a lot simpler, humbler than that, and Frankenstein had failed to realise it.

Frankenstein stood up and wrapped his arm around Raizel's frame, taking his chin with his other hand and tilting his face. Raizel looked at him, puzzled still, and Frankenstein covered his lips with his own, swallowing a soft sound. For all his brilliance, Frankenstein had become blind to the most obvious thing because of the guilt that plagued him. That meant he would have to rectify it, and he wished to do it as soon as possible. He broke the kiss, and caressed the edge of Raizel's lips with his fingers.

"The truth is, I'm scared to touch you," Frankenstein confessed, resting his forehead against Raizel's. "The last time I did, you disappeared. I know you had to do your duty and protect innocent lives, but the idea festered in my mind nonetheless."

"I have no desire to leave you again, Frankenstein. We have both wrapped ourselves in chains from the fear of separation, not realising what the other wanted." Raizel's voice was calm now, soft, and his hands rested gently over Frankenstein's chest.

When they kissed again, it was Frankenstein who moved first, cupping Raizel's face in his palms and cradling it as gently as he could. Their breaths intermingled and their noses brushed against each other when he broke away, taking a few moments to take stock of what he had in his arms. Raizel was pliant and willing, the desire for Frankenstein written on his face so plainly adorned with a healthy blush and downturned eyes. Separating himself from Raizel was difficult, but necessary. He did not let go of Raizel's hand, however, as they walked back to his room.

The house was quiet, considering it was night time: Regis was probably asleep and Seira was either up studying or doing some additional reading Frankenstein had assigned to her. Muzaka was out to oversee some of the outlier parts of their territory to make sure the Union was keeping itself in check. Ashleen was due to return in a couple of weeks. The children he'd rescued from the Union might come to visit him soon as well, and he'd make sure to introduce Raizel to him. He knew it made Raizel happy to be surrounded by people, and they were all good people despite all that had happened to them.

None of that could have been possible if Raizel hadn't saved Frankenstein, hadn't tried to sacrifice his life for everyone's sake. He'd stopped Frankenstein from becoming a part of the Union by surrendering to him and staying by his side so he wouldn't have to suffer from the lack of power. Even if it was difficult, he'd given Frankenstein the strength – and that did not mean the strength of the contract – to do things the right way. Raizel's unyielding goodness was what had changed Frankenstein, and for the years to come without Raizel, he'd lived with the stories of the Noblesse's kindness and gentle soul. Raizel had no idea how well-loved he was, because showing emotions wasn't something the Nobles routinely engaged in.

Even so, if nobody ever told him, Raizel had no way of knowing how precious he was and wasn't that why he was always so careless with his life? So uncaring of what became of him as long it helped protect people. It was all right though, because Frankenstein wanted to make sure Raizel knew just how loved he was. It was a vow he took again and again because no matter what he did, it always felt inadequate to him, and that insecurity on his part always affected Raizel.

He pulled Raizel into the room, shutting the door behind him. In the soft glow of his nightlamp, Raizel's skin was luminous and unearthly crimson eyes like dark pools he could drown in if he wasn't careful – but he had no need to care about that right now. He drew Raizel closer, the pounding of heart almost embarrassingly loud, and kissed him again and again. The flow of time for both of them was inherently different, made even more so by the fact that he'd spent over eight centuries loving Raizel whereas for Raizel it had been almost an instant before he saw Frankenstein again. In those intervening years, Raizel's existence had crystallised into an ideal for Frankenstein: almost untouchable, divine, one he could always feel inside himself but never could touch. Raizel had slumbered on in his coffin and no matter how much Frankenstein wished he wouldn't wake Raizel, making him even more remote.

So then, to have Raizel like this, alive and _awake_ in his arms, Frankenstein did not know how to name the emotion inside his heart.

"Frankenstein." Raizel's breath whispered against his cheek as they pulled away from the kiss.

It wasn't just a name; it was a plea, and Frankenstein responded right away. He tugged at Raizel's shirt and cravat, divesting him of them swiftly and then did the same for himself. He pushed Raizel against the wall, back first, and pressed his lips against the curve of Raizel's neck. He slotted his leg between Raizel's, parting them and pushed against the growing arousal he found there. His heart thudded painfully in his chest – how had he ignored this for so long? But cursing or lamenting the fact wouldn't make it less stupid, so he did what he could.

He mouthed at the soft skin below Raizel's jaw, pressing kisses down to his collarbone and bit at his neck, drawing a soft gasp of surprise. The skin bloomed into a striking shade of red under his mouth and he worried at it until Raizel's hands came to rest on his shoulders, fingers fluttering nervously on Frankenstein's overheated skin. The touch grounded him. He released Raizel's neck from his grasp and kissed languidly his way up to that elegant mouth.

Raizel's lips were already swollen a little from the kisses they'd shared before, and his mouth was still warm and inviting and Frankenstein wasted no time in claiming it again. He slipped his fingers into that fine, silk soft dark hair and tilted Raizel's head to delve deeper into the mouth that still tasted of the honey from the tea Frankenstein served him. The knowledge was a thrill of pleasure down his spine, like every time and always.

Raizel bucked into him, rubbing himself against Frankenstein's leg. His fingers dug harder into Frankenstein's shoulder, all composure forgotten – and wasn't that beautiful? Raizel, always so dignified and prim and proper, reduced to a heated mess of want and desire against Frankenstein's skin. The cold, distant loveliness of his face, so perfectly shaped as if carved into marble – slowly melted by the very human love Frankenstein had for him, and to be loved in return. It made him look _human_ and Frankenstein treasured it beyond words.

But then Raizel was never cold, was never ungentle: to compare him to marble was to overlook his nature. No, perhaps it was better to say that Raizel's love was very alien in nature – who else could love someone like Frankenstein so steadfastly – but it was humanised by touch and passion. He'd had a chance to observe Nobles when he'd lived in Lukedonia, had a chance to see how they went about their lives – his long lifespan allowed him such a thing – and he'd never really seen affection or love expressed thusly between them. So either Raizel was different from them, or he'd adopted the human ways for Frankenstein because it pleased him so. Frankenstein would have doubted how much of it was for his sake alone, but then Raizel was very honest with his likes and dislikes, so this wasn't a lie.

Frankenstein shook his head: he'd let his mind wander too much. He pressed himself closer to Raizel so that their erections – still clothed – brushed against each other and Raizel rested his head on Frankenstein's shoulder. They rocked against each other, gently at first, and then growing frantic in pace as pleasure mounted higher. Maybe he would have liked to do this in bed, where Raizel would be a lot more comfortable than pressed to a cold hard wall, where he could have taken all the time in the world to rediscover that precious body, but he couldn't wait. He really couldn't wait to have Raizel against him, hot and wanting, clothing stained from the need – and he really should have taken their pants off too – like this.

The responses Raizel gave were nostalgic, from a far off dream that he sometimes imagined never happened. He could never the sweet sounds that had spilled from Raizel's throat that night, the way his body had moved fluidly with Frankenstein's, the way his skin had flushed from exertion and bliss mingled in one happy mixture. He felt time had embellished the loveliness of that time, making it somehow more exquisite and perfect than it had been. And yet, as he held Raizel closed to him, heard soft, breathy noises he made next to Frankenstein's ear, shuddered and clutched at Frankenstein – his memories couldn't hold a candle to it. Each time he felt Raizel move and reach for him, Frankenstein knew he wasn't going to last long. Not at all.

They both come in their clothes, not far off from each other, and Frankenstein's pulse beat a loud drumbeat in his ears as the world faded from his vision. They slumped against each other, giddy but spent, and utterly boneless from the relief of coming home after a long time apart.

Afterwards Frankenstein took Raizel to his bed, undressed, and curled against each other to sleep, to rest and to forget. And when he woke up in the morning, Raizel was still there and smiled sweetly at him, pressed a good morning kiss to Frankenstein's lips which tasted like _happiness_.

**Author's Note:**

> There are still tons of unused ideas that I want to include in this fic. I might just add a second chapter if I can write it and see if it meshes well with this. It's a lot of fun, fluffy stuff~ 
> 
> Originally, I was going to kill Rai at the end of the story. But both Franken and I noped out because that was an awful, awful idea. I'm so sorry.


End file.
